Turning From True Beauty
by Phanatic01
Summary: Christine has chosen a lifetime with Erik and must get used to living with her confinement underground. Will she find that true beauty lies within and that love can be found in the darkest of places or will she find herself slipping further and further into the shadows of his domain?
1. Chapter 1

**As some of you may notice whilst reading this, I have changed my writing style. If you like it then you have me slaving away at my desk for 3 hours straight editing it to thank! Anyway, please tell me what you think!**

Chapter 1

o0o

There was something highly unpleasant about my awakening after that frightful event. The unusual dark of the night had consumed my mind and soul forcing me through a series of twisted images and vague dreams. My mouth held no saliva, throat red raw from my shed tears, eyes that throbbed with loss. My body ached as I started to move around on my unfamiliar velvet layered bed. My wild chocolate curls had sprawled out above my weary head sometime during the night and had left me with considerable ounces of morning hair. I stretched my fingers out in front of me, hearing the crack of bones in the process, and straightened out my attire. It was then I realised that I still wore my costume from the previous night's performance; I shuddered at the very thought of it. _Don Juan. _That Opera was the former to the disaster. Everything had all went wrong after that. I shook my head trying to make sense of what happened, grasping a few ringlets as I did so. I shut my fluttering eyes and then reopened them a couple of times but no matter how hard I tried the darkness was always there. They flashed opened at the sudden sound of something near by. I strained my ears to hear what it was and from what I could hear it sounded to be water. It dropped at a steady beat, the same as my breathing.

And then it all came back to me.

The costumes, the lights, the music, the mask, the noose, the ring, the promise! I bolted straight up with a gasp as my momentarily forgotten memories seeped back to me. I gripped the rumpled sheets beneath me as I stared wide-eyed at the stone wall. My breathing seemed to cease for the minutes exceeded my expectation for remembering. I allowed my mind to wander, even if it meant reliving my memories again. Unconsciously, my eyelids slid closed and I began to focus on regaining my normal breathing pace.

_'Christine,_' oh that voice! _'Come to me, my Angel…' _Oh how I wanted to obey! How I wanted to follow! But that time had lasted all too short as I grew to learn the deception woven thick into these words. _'Rest now, you have had a tiring day.' _I remembered that those were the last words I had heard before I had succumbed to my drowsiness the previous night. However; I also remembered that that same voice had visited my dreams too. That heavenly voice! … That voice I had thought once to have belonged to an Angel, an Angel of music. But once reality had caught up with me and shook this fantasy out of my head I was finally able to see clearly. I realised that the voice belonged to a demon. No! I shook my head vigorously. No, it didn't belong to a demon, it belonged to a man. A man who had tortured and killed. _'My Christine.' _I winced as his choice of words for I wasn't his. No, I didn't belong to anyone.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and attempted to stand, the cold pierced my feet as it made contact with the floor. And it was cold, so very cold. My head spun as soon as I straightened my posture and I placed a hand on my head to try to stop the dizziness. My feet then decided to get my body moving and gradually they stole forward one step at a time. I was only just becoming fully aware of my surroundings when all of a sudden I heard it; that oh so familiar melody floating across the haunting strings of the Stradivarius. The music breathed me in and compelled me to be pulled towards the maker of those notes. I found my soul obliging to its request and I made my way blindly towards the door of 'my' bedchamber. I opened the door carefully and saw that I was met with black curtains. My fingers slid through the crack of the silk curtains, the feel of which felt almost delightful against my skin, and cautiously peered through it.

And as sure as can be; there in the middle of the room stood the creator of that wondrous sound and the invader of my dreams. My Angel of music. My eyes fell upon his long bony fingers and I watched them fly across the strings of his violin. I was always in awe at his capability of playing for he never ceased to amaze me. And for a moment, when I lost myself in his music, I was content, at peace, and I was able to forget the world and its troubles. Unfortunately those moments never seemed to last for me. He had his back to me and seemed to not hear my approach. But my, was he tall! His skeleton-like frame towered a good two feet above me and oh course made me feel very small indeed.

"Erik." I whispered; his name, my 'Angel's' name, still feeling foreign against my tongue.

My presence and voice made his intense concentration slip and a flat note was produced.

He held his violin to his side but dared not to turn and face me. And when he spoke his voice was flat with no registered emotion in it. "I thought you left."

I flickered my vision from him to my messy bed quickly. I didn't want to lie to him but he held me with no alternative. And although I had never been a great liar, the one thing I knew I was good at was acting. "No, I never left. I would not do that to you." I gulped trying to restrain the, what I only presumed was, fear from taking over me.

My reply was that of a grunt. He then went to place his violin back into its case next to his magnificent organ. I travelled down the few steps leading to the main part of the room, whilst holding the hem of my dress so it wouldn't attain any dust. When I reached the huge Persian carpet which lay across the whole of the floor I hastily ran my fingers through my hair, trying desperately to get rid of any tugs. I didn't know why I cared about my appearance around Erik, I just did. And yet my fingers flew to my side fast when he briskly whirled around to meet me face to face. Or should I say mask to face. I huffed when I saw that we wore his mask. That white porcelain mask that covered half his face once scared me, although what was underneath had held more fright over me. But as I grew accustom to his company I realised that the mask, and more importantly his grotesque face, held no horror for me now.

His skin was an unnatural shade of white, his lips bloated, and his eyes were the purest colour of black. Those eyes had witnessed the life leave another's, and I had fallen prey to their affection. But that was just it! His eyes truly did hold affection, however surrounded by sadness and pain.

"Did I wake you?" He asked finally.

"No." I turned away, hating the way he gazed at me, but still I felt his beady eyes upon my small frame.

From out of the corner of my eye I saw him tilt his head slightly to the side and start to walk very slowly towards me. "Christine, why are you here?"

I fingered the ring which now held a permanent place on my finger before turning to look at him. As soon as I did so; he retreated back to where he was, back hunched and face down. "Because I made a promise."

"A promise that I released you from." He spoke almost as a whisper.

"And yet I am still here." I said strongly.

I couldn't help but glance towards the portcullis, my only escape route. All it would take was one flip of the lever, it would rise and I would be free. But looking at Erik now, the way he now shied away from my view and the way he had lost all power to his voice only made me pity him more. Yes I did pity him greatly, but no I did not love him. The very idea made me shudder. I could not bring myself to love him as he loved me for I loved another.

"_Raoul_." My hand flew over my mouth but it was too late. His name had already passed through my mouth and cut Erik across the chest like a knife.

My eyes grew large as I saw Erik's back stiffen and snap up, his hands clenched and eyes wild. "You dare speak that _boy's _name in front of me?"

I flinched at his words. Not much longer after I had noticed a change in him had he transitioned back into his obsessive unpredictable self. I hated seeing this side of him! No matter how hard I tried to resist the urge to run away, I couldn't. And that was the only thing I was thinking of at that moment: run. I wanted to run back to my sweet Raoul. I wanted him to hold me in his strong arms and comfort me and tell me that everything was going to be alright. But that was not my reality, this was. And standing before me, looking like he was going to kill the first thing that crossed his past, was my future.

My eyes swiftly moved around the room trying to find that lever. I found it in no time and unfortunately it was on the other side of Erik. While not taking my eyes off of him I gradually stepped back keeping my feet intact to the floor.

"Why Christine?" He bellowed. "Why do you speak these words of poison to me?"

"I ... what?"

"You women are all the same, are you not? You feed on the powerful until they are mere weaklings, whispering words of love and affection in their ears until they would do anything for you. You drain them of life and make them believe your foul words until you take all that they have and leave in the night." He strode forward a few steps angrily. "You made me believe you!"

I was affronted. After all that we had been through I couldn't imagine that Erik would have said such a thing against me. "Do you really think that I am one of those women?" I replied, my voice failing me.

Erik smirked a cruel smile. "No. No, I do not believe that."

I frowned. "Then why do you say such things?" I couldn't have sounded more naïve than I did in that moment in time.

Erik seemed to notice this which only increased the thickness of his smirk. Although within a flash that smirk was gone and what had replaced it was the fury from before.

"Why did you speak his name?" He began to pace. "After you promise to stay with Erik all you can think about is returning to that boy! Isn't it?" When I didn't answer he stopped pacing and raised his voice. "Isn't it?"

"Erik." The last thing I wanted to do was anger him and unfortunately I had already done that. If I lied to him, he would know. "Yes," I said slowly. "I was thinking about him. But," I added as an after-note. "I do not wish to return to him."

I heard a low barely audible growl leave Erik's throat. "But you _were _thinking of him?"

I nodded but flinched as I heard another growl from Erik's direction. "If I could maybe just venture up ground for a little while so that I could say my final goodbyes and then-"

"No." He said sharply.

"But Erik, I have a right to say goodbye to my friends. You cannot force me into a life of darkness forever!" I sighed with exasperation and then said rather boldly, "I am going above ground whether or not you say otherwise-"

"No."

I instantly regretted mentioning the idea yet still I stood my ground. Or at least tried to. "Erik, I-"

"No!"

And with that he pounced at me.

He moved just like the spectre he was, fast and unseen to the eye. My legs had not carried me two feet before he had grabbed a hold of my wrist that sent me tumbling back against his body. He pulled my held wrist across the front of my body and placed his free hand fiercely against the side of my corset. He held me so tight that I thought he was going to let me suffocate under his own hand!

He brought his masked face down to my ear, allowing me to soak in the feel of his hot uneven breath at my skin before speaking. "You are mine." He growled.

My knees were shaking and I had to bite my lower lip to prevent it from shaking. I peered down and noticed that his long fingers had travelled around the back to the strings of my corset. I closed my eyes fast in fear but I remembered that Erik would not do that, he would not forcefully take my purity away from me. And sure enough he removed his fingers from my corset and wrapped them around my arm.

"I will not let you leave me! You will not slip through my fingers … not again." He spoke those last words with the distinct trace of sorrow in them and I immediately recognised this tone of voice. It was the tone he had when he was trying hard to stay in control of his varying emotions. This was confirmed when his grip loosened dramatically on me, leaving his fingers hovering slightly over where they had been. "Erik would not dream of any another companion in the world, but you Christine."

I tried to twist my head around so that I could see him. I stared at him directly in the eye; partly because I didn't want to look anywhere else and partly because, even though his eyes were perhaps the most menacing part of him at times, they were also perhaps the nicest part of him. "Oh," was all I could say to that. What else could I have said? How was I suppose to comfort him when he was like this?

I did not love him, that I knew. However, there was connection we both shared that neither of us understood. It had always been there ever since the beginning. Without removing my eye contact I raised a hand to his unmasked cheek. Erik breathed in my touch and closed his eyes whilst unconsciously leaning into my hand. A tiny smile broke over my lips as I watched him do this. Braveness washed over me and I found my small fingers lightly stroking his odd skin. I suddenly felt a warm sensation rush over me as I watched his eyes open and stare into mine. But being the coward I was, I immediately withdrew my hand and stepped away from him.

Erik continued to stand there acting as if nothing had changed and I watched him with inquisitive eyes. I wasn't sure on what to do next so I continued to watch him for a few more seconds before turning and swiftly scurrying into my room.

I hated being intimate, if you would call that intimate, with him. He was so very unpredictable, not at all like Raoul. I mentally scolded myself for bringing him up in front of Erik, I should have known better. I sighed and went to perch on the edge of my bed. However, the more I think of Raoul, the more I seem to miss him. In fact I missed him greatly. I longed to feel the softness of his hair, the warmth of his eyes, the way he held me protectively shielding me from the world…

This whole ordeal was all very unfamiliar and strange to me and to tell the truth, I was down right frightened by it. I had chosen to be Erik's living wife but I had not thought ahead about what that would mean. I hadn't thought that I would spend the remainder of my days confined to darkness with _him_. My _Angel_. I shook my head. No, he was no Angel. He was a man. A liar. He deceived me into thinking he was my Angel of music, I followed him blindly not caring about the coincidences, and in finding out the truth about him I found the truth about the world. I learned that it could be cruel, and luckily I had never experienced that side of it. Although in realising this, I realised just how naïve I was. I was a child of seven years when I first heard my angel -_no_- when I first heard _Erik_ sing to me. I grew up believing in fairytales. I grew up believing that Erik _was _a fairytale. How foolish I must have seemed! And now ten years have passed and here I sit in my mentor's home shaking like the little girl I always was, and still am, inside.

My eyes dance around the room, the candle light is dim, the drapes around my bed are dark, and I have no idea what the time is. How could any one live like this? Erik had and still is living like this. Oh, I was too young to understand the outcome of all of this. But I didn't want to know, I still had time, I didn't have to grow up just yet.

And in a flash I had buried my face into my hands, letting out desperate sobs. My glassy orbs were firmly sealed shut by my salty tears, my curls hung loose and wild around my face. Oh how I missed Raoul and Mamma Valerius and Meg! Oh my dear friends, what would they think? What would they be told…?

There was a knock at the door. Erik. I didn't want to open the door, I wanted to be left alone. But remembering the look in his eyes not five minutes ago made me change my mind. I stood up slowly and straightened out my still worn costume as best I could and made my way over to my vanity and shyly peered at my reflection. I pinched my cheeks to give them a healthy glow, but also to try to take the attention away from my sore wet eyes. Another knock. I looked over my shoulder and, after a few deep breaths, strode over and opened the door.

I saw Erik standing outside my door, holding back one gossamer curtain in his hand, purposely avoiding my face for his head was turned to the floor. His head slowly rose as he saw my feet. I did my best to force a brave exterior around myself, but unfortunately it did not fool Erik. His stance immediately changed as he witnessed my distress. His posture slipped and his knees bent, and I stared wide-eyed as I watched him drop to the floor in front of me. I suppressed the urge to step away from him, for there were those eyes again, staring longingly up at me.

"Oh Christine." I flinched as he grabbed the hem of my dress and brought it up to his masked face. Why oh why couldn't he be the stable content Erik instead of this unpredictable man on his knees. "Erik is so sorry. He has upset you greatly. Please, forgive him."

As much as I was shocked by this sudden act of his to grovel, I felt a burning desire to hold him in my arms, gently rock him back and forth, and tell him that he was forgiven. I couldn't bring myself to show this affection towards him, not with Raoul still haunting my puzzled mind. And so I tenderly grasped one of his cold hands and held it both of mine. I squeezed his fingers, trying to reassuring him of-well-I wasn't sure.

Yet he hastily released my hand as if it were on fire and rose to his feet in one swift motion. His emotions changed so rapidly that sometimes I truly felt lost and perplexed around him. He gazed at me for what seemed like the longest of seconds before giving me a stiff nod and turning on his heels to return to the main room. I stared after him, in both awe and confusion.

But as soon as he was out of my line of sight I staggered back into my room, quietly closing the door behind me. I wrapped my arms around myself, wanting to seek comfort, and gradually slipped down to the ground against the door. I lay weeping on the ground some more, but this time my tears were not only for my friends and family but they were for Erik too. I didn't move a muscle as I heard a wondrous melody arise from the piano forte and so I sat weeping and listening, weeping and listening.

And hour or so later, Erik's playing halted and I heard the unmistakable sound of his footsteps nearing my room. I tensed, not knowing what to expect. But as I listened I heard his footsteps disappearing. I sniffed and ran my shivering fingers under my eye lids to see if I could catch any of my unwanted tears. I wanted to risk a peek outside, but I didn't have the courage to do this until I heard Erik's playing start-up again. I turned and creaked open the door. My eyes grew misty once more at what I saw. On the ground lay a beautiful bloomed blood-red rose, tailored with a midnight black silk ribbon. I gently picked it up, raising it to my lips and nose allowing the intoxicating aroma to inflict my senses.

My ears perked up and my eyes closed as Erik's music swept over me. And there I sat in the doorway, caressing the rose, listening to this unearthly music, with a fresh tear strolling down my cheek. And that was when the events of this morning took over me. I breathed in a sad sigh for I had had a taster of life down here. This was my awakening to reality. This was my future.

o0o


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

o0o

If there was one specific thing that I did not notice during my visits down here before, it was the fact that there were no visible windows in sight. Every room was lit beyond compare with bright candles perched high up on the cobbled walls. This room, my room, was surprisingly large and was surprisingly fitted with any necessities that I may have required. I frowned at this as I sat at my vanity staring at its peculiar present objects. All seemed unused and untouched, which just raised the number of questions I had. Yet the one object that rose the most questions was the delicate decorative hand mirror with black encrusted flowers carved into the wooden frame and … my name engraved in white upon the back. I ran my fingers over the cool surface on the wood and traced the letters of my name over and over again.

The rose that Erik had left outside my bed chamber not two hours ago, or what I could only presume was two hours, was now leaning up against the main mirror of the vanity. I think I may have stared at it for a good half hour before my mind forced my strained eyes away from it.

I didn't know what else to do. I could not, I would not, face Erik, not when he was in this unpredictable state of his. So, I ended up pacing the lengthy metres of my room, holding myself in my arms as a form of some sort of comfort. I often paused facing the old door, lingering for a minute or two whilst pondering over whether or not I should go to Erik. However; after each and every single time I did this, I always came up with the same solution: walk away. I dreaded my resisting heart was to be locked in an eternal struggle against my obeying soul.

As I thought long and hard at the way I had wrongly mistreated Erik, I began to see more and more reason behind my convictions. He was a man, no more and no less. He was pure flesh and blood. He bled like any other man and he hurt like any other man. I had permanently wounded him beyond repair, I feared. This was why I stood staring at my door. This was why I had to face him.

I summoned the so longed for courage from within me as I strode to open the door. I turned to close it but froze when I heard a series of marvellous notation arising from the organ in the next room. My eyes grew wide as a distant memory came about. I recognised the piece as Casta Diva from Bellini's Norma. Unfortunately my first memory was of La Carlotta singing, although more like shrieking, this beautiful aria during my early years at the Opera House. I remember explicitly covering my ears in disgust! And in my opinion she almost nearly sung the piece to the point of crucifixion. But standing here now I had the exact opposite reaction as I did when I first heard it. This time I was immediately drawn to it. I both detested and cherished the hold that Erik's music had on me, and more importantly, my soul. Every time he graced his fingers over one of his fine instruments or opened his mouth to sing, I could not help but go to him.

And in no time at all I found myself standing before his presence staring at his fingers glide across the keys. Even though my eyes were glued to his hands, I could feel his eyes watching my every move just like the watch a predator has over their prey. The innocent had foolishly wandered into a trap where the hunter calmly awaited its prey. I had fallen under his spell one too many times, and what made matters worse … I did not mind one bit.

"_Mon Ange_." I exhaled sounding almost breathless.

"I always imagined that one day I would hear you singing this on stage, Christine." Erik murmured as if I had said nothing. "I tried for many months to persuade-" his large lips twitched into a faint dark smirk at the mention of the word, "-my managers to allow another production of Norma. I believed you ready for the lead, Christine. However, as I recall they proposed it was overplayed and was not within the public demands." He sniggered. "As if those two fools know anything about music! All they think the public wants is light-hearted actors who cannot sing and who prance around the stage laughing and..." Taking his fingers off the keys sharply he stared up at me, head slightly tilted to the side, and sighed. "You do remember the words, do you not Christine? Oh course you do!" He spoke before I could get a word in.

His fingers returned to the keys and started to play from the beginning, this time with me singing, happy enough to comply. Unfortunately, I had only reached the fifth line of the piece before Erik halted his playing and spoke harshly in his mentor domineer. "You are not singing from your diaphragm! And remember to breathe at the right moments, you were sounding a little short of breath."

I looked rather sheepishly at my feet as I replied. "I was breathing correctly."

"No you were not." He answered back immediately. "Now; straighten up, feet apart, arms by your sides and-"

"Breathe?" I said as I raised my head to meet his now squinted eyes. My reply was that of a nod.

This time round I advanced a few more lines than last time before Erik raised a bony hand to silence me. "Where is the emotion, Christine? I am not feeling anything from you!"

I sighed, frustrated at myself. He was strict, yet correct, he was always correct. "I'm sorry, I guess I am just not in the right frame of mind for singing today."

"Nonsense!"

I knew there was no use in arguing with him, I knew I would not win, and so I practically pushed myself into the right frame of mind letting my emotions control my voice. We then proceeded from the beginning, this time round Erik allowed me to complete the whole aria without any interruption on his part. And for a moment, mind you a moment was a short thing indeed, I imagined that it was old times again and I was having one of my scheduled singing lessons.

Afterwards I placed myself timidly in a chair on the other side of the room, my back was pressed right up against the chairs back. My fingers tensely gripped the arm rests as I racked my mind for something to say in order to break this uneasy silence.

"When?" I closed my eyes and winced as I heard myself utter one of the most vaguest questions I could have conjured.

"When what?" He murmured back, now busily engrossed in composing. Although what amazed me was that he did not need to play the music in order to write it down. It was just another feature detailing how his brilliant mind worked.

"When did you try to arrange another production of Norma?"

I saw his gloved hand freeze in mid motion and I managed to catch a glimpse of his pearl white mask pointed in my direction before he continued with his work once more. "I believe it was some over two years ago."

I felt my jaw loosen and slowly drop, leaving my mouth gaping open. "Two years ago? Erik, I was only fifteen at the time, surely you did not think me ready for such a challenging role?"

"On the contrary, I suspected your potential from the moment I heard you first open you mouth. But yes, I suppose I was a little hasty in my assumption to deem your voice ready at such a young age."

I silently scoffed at the words, 'a little hasty'. Although, as I allowed his words to play in my mind I realised what he had meant. I automatically felt immensely honoured that he was even thinking about such roles for me at the time.

"Why did you?" I asked quietly.

"I took too much pride in your voice and my accomplishment."

"But Erik-" I started, leaning forward, "-it was a miracle my voice was even noticed at my age! Who on Earth would have paid to see a Prima Donna, a child of fifteen no less?"

Erik seemed only slightly aware of what I had just spoken as he produced a low chuckle, almost humourless, and whispered to himself, "So modest."

I huffed a sigh of defeat as I slumped my body back against the chair. Whist fiddling with a piece of cloth from my costume I shuffled my still cold feet into a more comfortable position beneath me. Unexpectedly a low gurgle sounded from my stomach. I immediately wrapped my arms around my abdomen to try to stifle any more noises from escaping. The thought of food did not pass my way that often, it would seem. Whilst my time down here I did not think much of food, in fact come to think of it, I had never witnessed Erik eat anything.

Erik, on hearing the noise, turned on the spot to face me. "Are you hungry?"

Embarrassed, I nervously shook my head. "No."

"Come come now, if your stomach had not produced that gurgle, you would have rotted away into skin and bones. We wouldn't want that now, would we?" He rose from his seat, and I couldn't help but notice how elegantly he did so. "You see I am not used to eating, so I would be more than useless in offering any refreshments to company. Oh but why would a loathsome creature such as myself have company in the first place?"

I felt myself compelled to rise also and as soon as I was on my feet I interjected. "You are not a loathsome creature, Erik. In fact you-"

"This way to the kitchen, my dear." He said whilst pointing a long finger to his left.

Anything that would have seeped out of my dry mouth before was now gone and was replaced with speechlessness. "You … have -er- a … a … kitchen?" A kitchen might have been the last thing that I would have thought Erik to have in his dismal excuse for a home.

My feet heavily trudged along the floor, bathing in the different textures as they went, as I followed Erik to the … kitchen. He always had me second guessing him, and I suppose, I never will be able to predict his ways. His mood swings were oh so violent, some made my heart surprisingly flutter, while others made me cower in the corner. Trying hard to hide my grimace at this thought, I forced a shaky smile as I entered this unfamiliar room.

Not to my amazement, Erik had managed to make this room befitting for a funeral. Black morbid wallpaper clung to the walls, some parts even had peeled away to reveal a stone wall. In the middle of the room stood a rickety looking carved table along with two straight chairs. But of course, the only light that was provided was from the glow of lots of varying shaped candles dotted all around. I stepped coyly inside the gloomy room with hands clasped in front of me. I found myself actually suppressing a gasp.

"Oh." I whispered in the dim darkness.

A low snort sounded from right beside me and I flinched as Erik's form slowly made its way from the wall and into the light. I shuddered remembering how eerie he seemed whilst surrounded by blackness, for he was almost blackness itself. "What were you expecting?" He asked flatly as he floated around the room seeming ghost like while doing so.

"I -er- I don't … I don't know." I stuttered, not knowing exactly where he was.

"Here." He spoke smoothly placing something round and cold into the palms of my hands.

I peered down trying to figure out the food by its shape, but alas I could not. And so I wandered cautiously over to the closest of the many candles and held up the object to inspect it further. The edges of my mouth curled into a curious smile when I discovered the identity of this object as an apple. A delicious looking one at that too. My lips curved over the juicy substance and I took no time at all in sinking my teeth into the skin. I quietly sat down on one of those dreadfully uncomfortable dining chairs and continued my eating. Once my mouth was satisfied and quenched from its dryness, I folded my hands into my lap and let my eyes skim the room.

"Thank you." I spoke just audibly.

"You're welcome." He replied.

I physically leapt up from my seat when my ears heard the unexpected pleasure of his voice. After all, it was the one thing that drew me to him in the first place. I was like a moth being unconsciously, yet willingly, drawn to a burning flame.

His voice had sounded from in front of me and my orbs focused on the now occupied seat at the other end of the wooden table. I had not realised that Erik had sat down, in fact I had no recollection in his presence even being known to me after I started eating. He really could move like a spectre sometimes, and when he did he was particularly good at it. In the luminescence of the scented candles I could see his bloodless mask gaping at me from behind his clasped stony hands.

"Forgive me for the shortage of food this evening. I was not expecting anyone but myself to be here, so that will have to do for the meantime, my dear."

"It's quite alright, Erik, it wasn't your fault."

"May I say," he started, with those black pools for eyes staring into mine, "that you look exceptionally beautiful in the candlelight? I believe unearthly could be the only word to describe you at this very second."

I held his gaze only for a moment more before I dropped my eyes to my lap whilst fashioning a horrendous blush upon my cheeks. A small girlish grin appeared on my lips; unfortunately in a flash it had vanished. "Thank you." I murmured back to him.

Erik noticed my reddening cheeks but seemed to pass it off as something else as he continued to speak as if he had said naught. "I hope your room is satisfactory to you and that you find anything you need in there. If, however, there is something you desire just say the word and I will fetch it for you. I am entirely at your service..."

I was quite certain that he continued speaking to me in such a manner, rambling about how he hoped I will be comfortable in the space provided and such and such. However, even as my eyes and ears were completely soaking in every word he produced, I could safely say that my mind was elsewhere. I thought of everything and nothing; I thought about this predicament, about what possible outcomes could arise, my future, my fate and my old life. I had told myself to not think of Raoul when in Erik's presence for I could let slip that I was too easily. And that is why I re frame myself to only think of him when I was in the confinement of my bed chamber. He consumed my thoughts, yet so did Erik, and I was convinced that I consumed his thoughts also. This was confirmed at this minute because for the first time whilst listening to him speak, I truly heard the softness in his voice and the adoration in his eyes as he spoke to me. He really did think me above anyone else. It was quite frightening to think of the lengths he would go to for my approval.

"Christine?" This, I think, was his third time in repeating my name. Fortunately this time it had worked and had pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm?" I said, sounding half awake.

"I asked you if you wished to retire to your slumber now."

I frowned at him finding his statement disorienting. "Don't be silly, why would I wish to retire in the middle of the afternoon?"

"It isn't the middle of the afternoon, Christine. It is nightfall. You slept all day, woke in mid afternoon, concealed yourself to your room for a few more hours and when you finally came out the sun had set."

I blinked violently; had I heard him correctly? "Nightfall?" He nodded.

I raised a dark eyebrow and twisted my head slightly to the side. "How can you tell that it is when there aren't any windows?"

He tapped his half masked nose with the very tip of his fore finger. "I have my ways."

I huffed and folded my arms tightly across my chest as he had begun to annoy me with this recurring secrecy. I saw a tiny amused grin spread across his face, thus irritating me further. "Do not sulk, my dear. It is not very becoming of you."

"Erik!" I sighed when I saw the look of fake innocence on his face. "If you know what time of day it is by going up there-" I pointed to the ceiling with a finger to further my point, "-then I wish to come to."

"What makes you think I go up there-" he extended a bony finger upwards also, "-to know the time?"

"Why all the secrecy?" I gulped and readied myself for the words I was about to utter. "We are soon to be husband and wife, married couples shouldn't have secrets between each other."

Noticing the instability in my voice, Erik smirked. "Ah, but as you just pointed out we are not married yet." Before I could speak up his now sounding sincere voice started up once more. "Do not try to argue, that would lead to shouting and I wouldn't want you damaging your vocal chords."

Slumping my shoulders I nodded and decided to comply. "Oh, then I suppose I should go to bed." I rose from my seat and glanced at Erik one last time before turning to leave. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Christine. Oh and there is something important I wish to discuss with you tomorrow."

And with that I hurried out of the kitchen, across the fine rug and into my room sealing the wooden frame firmly behind me.

o0o

I awoke later that night - or was it morning now? - from an uneasy sleep consisting of a lot of tossing and turning and rumpling of sheets. I had changed into a white sleeping gown that I found folded neatly on a shelf located in my seemingly luxurious wardrobe. It covered the full length of my body and successfully kept me warm throughout my slumber. As I swung my legs over the edge of my bed, once again landing my toes onto the icy surface of the floor, I yawned. I ran my hand through my wild ringlets, pushing them out of my weary looking face, not caring whether my tugs were seen to or not.

It took me all of two minutes to recollect and come to terms of why I awoke in the first place. And suddenly I heard once more what drove me from my dreams in the first place. A raised voice, taunting at something or other. I rose and stumbled sleepily to the door to try to hear better. I pressed my ear clumsily against the chipped wood and strained to listen carefully. My brow furrowed as the raised voice continued to shout at … nothing. There was no other voice, no other being shouting back. I shuddered at the conclusion that Erik must be having one of his uncontrollable ranting episodes. I flinched at the thought of him roaming around outside, with his unholy eyes piercing the surroundings and searching for anything to release his anger onto. Even though this thought frightened me so, I knew I must go to him. He would want to seek some form of comfort, and seeing as I was to be his wife, I should be the one to provide him with that. I sighed and leaned my forehead against the frame, hand lingering on the handle. I should be strong, so why was I such a coward?

I decided to wait a minute to see if his muffled exclaims would cease and sure enough they did. I exhaled slowly and opened the door. Creeping through Erik's lair was something I never thought I would see myself doing; however another thing I thought I would never see myself doing was marrying him. I made my way, silently through the dingy corridors, with the looming candlelight as my only guide. My feet halted outside Erik's room, a terrible place I found myself in only once before, although I remembered it vividly. The torn black satin curtains draped around the cobbled walls, a crudely hand carved chest of drawers with the only supplier of light upon it, mountains of sheet music strewn across the entire space of the floor, a monstrous desk complete with more sheet music letters and newspapers written in a foreign language, a full length mirror that was cracked hopelessly beyond repair and oh course the spine chilling coffin that was located in the very centre of the room.

There, staring at his repulsive reflection in front of the fractured mirror, was Erik. He had one hand clutching forcefully at the top of the mirror and had a bottle containing some unknown liquid inside in the other; his eyes were staring manically at himself. As I edged closer I froze finally realising that he was unmasked, although it surprised me the length it took me to reach that judgement. I pushed my body back until it was protected by the shadows and once done I stood there observing. I was right when I thought his voice had a taunting quality to it, for he was taunting himself, and with the bottle it would appear.

"Go ahead, do it. Do it, you miserable bastard!" Erik's voice sounded gruff and low, like the persona he had used when he was terrorising the Opera House as the formidable Phantom. "What have you got to live for? Nothing, that's what!" I pressed my back further into a crevice in the wall, palms flat-out against the rough texture. My breathing had stopped. "Why make the air waste its valuable time on you? Why don't you relieve it of its duties for you?"

Poison! That was what was contained within that little bottle. Oh Lord, he was mentally thinking about taking his own life! I began to tremble as I knew I was the only one to save him, I couldn't allow him to do this to himself. He deserved to live!

With one swipe from his thumb, Erik had the lid of the bottle wide open, the deadly liquid tempting him with its glistening movements. "You want me to relieve its duties?" His breathing increased to a point where it sounded like laboured panting. "Gladly."

"Erik, no!" I screamed and rushed to his side, yanking the bottle out of his skeleton hand before he brought it to his mouth. I hastily closed the lid and stormed over to the light to see if my assumption was correct. The glow flickered over the label and my eyes welled with tears as I read it. "Arsenic." I whispered. I spun around on the spot, my gown twirling gracefully with me, to see Erik on his knees gazing up at the ceiling.

"Why, Christine, did you do that? Why let me live?" He whined hoarsely.

"Because-"

"You … you what? Oh, but surely you don't! Who would?" I frowned and came towards him slowly, captivated by the scene in front of me. It almost seemed like he didn't know I was here. "Every night I do this, Christine, and every night you save me. Why?"

_Every night_? I gasped, surely he did not put himself through this sadness every night only to be saved by … myself? But it was not myself psychically who saved him each time, it was him. He saved himself - I was just a mere image at the back of his mind.

"I saved you," my voice suddenly said. "Because you are worth saving."

Erik's head immediately twisted in my direction, and I swear I could vaguely see a gleaming tear roll down the marred side of his face. He looked me up and down then back to the empty air and then back to me. "Chris-Christine?"

"Yes, Erik, I'm here." I dropped to my knees in front of him, placed the bottle on the floor, and embraced him. I held him close, close enough to make him believe that I was truly there. "I'm here." I shut my eyes as tight as I could.

Erik was crying now which only made me hold him tighter. He shyly wrapped his arms around me and shakily placed his hands on the small of my back. I breathed a sigh of relief and pity. This man had stopped himself from drinking that unspeakable liquid because of me, he believed I came to him and stopped him just in time. But this time it _was _me who saved him this time, and I would save him again if I had to.

o0o

**Well here's the second chapter, please let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much for the great feedback so far, I really appreciate it! And I hope everyone's having a happy new year! Be sure to tell me your honest opinions, I'd love to hear what you guys think.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything to do with The Phantom Of The Opera ... unfortunately ...**

Chapter 3

o0o

I had become painfully aware that Erik had been following, dare I say stalking, me around the damp aired lair. Ever since that dreadful night when I found him with the bottle of toxic liquid in hand, he had been persistent not to leave me alone … or in fact he had been persistent not to be alone himself. Wherever I ventured, whether it was to the living room or to the library, he was always there watching, sometimes seen and sometimes unseen. However, what was even more shocking was that he would follow me back to my room every night. Oh course, he would retreat back to his own room before he could step one foot inside, but I could see something faintly glistening in his eyes. Desire. I shuddered at the very thought and even though I knew he would never make any unwanted advances, I unconsciously slept with a locked door every night.

Paranoia had seemed to consume his judgement as if he thought that there was a chance that I would leave and never return. I reassured him that my leaving was never to be an issue, for it would never happen. Nevertheless; he still clung to my every movement, wanting to go wherever I may went, like a newborn craving its mother. Another thing that I had noticed was that he was boldly attempting to produce any sort of contact with me. Oh, it wasn't anything that would repulse me in any way, he simply tried to create contact with me by reaching out to take my hand or running his long fingers through my curls. I would have allowed him this small pleasure of his, were if not for the resistance he played on his part. Instead of me, it was him who pulled away. He would reach out timidly for me but at the last second he would change his mind, almost in fear of soiling me.

One evening, I had been peacefully sitting in the library reading some rather peculiar poetry wearing my newly found sleeping gown. It was the only thing that was available for wearing at this time for there were no other clothes stashed away down here, I was not permitted to go up to the surface to fetch my belongings and I was certainly not going to continue to wear my rather alluring Don Juan costume. My chemise, corset, petticoat, along with my costume, were all laid on my bed awaiting my return to them. I was thankful for the gowns providing warmth, but I really needed more to wear than just this. Surely, I thought, Erik would not allow me to freeze in this, surely he wanted me to be warm. This was just another thing to add to my ever-growing list of things to ask my strange companion.

I had just dived into a third poem when I suddenly sensed his presence in the room once more. For a few short minutes I continued reading before sighing in exasperation, placing my book down next to me on the seat and whipped my head around to face Erik, masked oh course, with my curls following in suit. He made no endeavour to move away or any closer, but instead his stance stayed firmly nailed to that spot. I saw his hopeful eyes glow at me in the burn of the fire, and I produced a forced welcoming smile.

As much as I did not mind Erik's company, sometimes it could be too much, especially in the state of relationship that we were in. I pondered on that last statement. What _was_ the status of our relationship? Oh course I had come to care for him over the years, after all, he was my teacher and guide for a many handful of them, and I once lavished in the presence of his soothing voice and words.

When my Father, God rest his soul, had passed away I had willingly come to live with an old associate of his named Madame Valerius, but eventually in time she had allowed me to call her Mamma Valerius. I only knew her through a series of short visits that my Papa used to make to her home, with myself tagging along regularly. I believe he used to perform to her a little on his violin, and every time he would, the life would momentarily return to her otherwise dead face. Once whilst I was busying myself with keeping out of my Father's way during a visit to her little cottage, I started to sing. Oh it was just a plain tune, a simple yet beautiful French folk song, but I loved it, and it would seem so did Mamma Valerius. She overheard my singing and went as far as expressing to me how my voice must have been the voice of God reincarnated. I would have been incredibly honoured were it not blasphemy. Yet I half-heartedly thanked her anyway, like the polite little girl I was. Unfortunately, she was a very persistent old woman and continued to tell me her opinion of my voice on every occasion she saw me.

In the end; it was she who encouraged me to take singing lessons so that one I might become a prima donna. And although my embarrassment of performing to her prevailed until the end, I never forget her support and was thankful to this day that she provided me with it. She worked at the Paris Opera House and it was there that she took me to earn my keep after my Papa had been taken to heaven. I was to train as a ballerina at first and in time also pay for an instructor to train my voice.

Unfortunately, I was immediately shunned by all there just because of my lack of prosperity and wealthy upbringing. I specifically remember weeping for hours on end in the little chapel in the Opera House because of the cruel pranks that the older girls would pull on me out of spite. Yet out of all the tears and turmoil that I endured, there was one being that I could always look to. My Angel. He was there through thick and thin, cared for me and was there for me when no one else was ... and yet I recoil from the fact that our relationship could border past this state. He loved me deeply, I knew that, but I could not let go of the past and I was inevitably holding back on my chances of having any kind of future with Erik. I feared that I could not love him in the way that he always wished, but for both our sakes I swore to myself that I would try.

"Christine?" He asked, pulling me forcefully out of my deep procession of thoughts.

I shook my head and gasped when I saw that he was considerably closer to me than he was last time I looked. He now stood not three feet from my chair, his arms clasped in front of him and his mask staring blankly at me. "Hmm, I'm sorry, I was just thinking."

"Thinking … about the boy?" Anger flashed across his face as fast as lightning, his non gloved hands balled up so savagely that his knuckles turned an even more unnatural shade of white.

I huffed at his unneeded ignorance towards Raoul. "No, Erik." I now wore a natural smile on my lips to reassure him that I was speaking the honest truth.

He gave me a stiff twitch of his head meaning he acknowledged what I had said to him and then continued to watch me intently from where he stood. "Christine?"

"Yes?" I answered just as I was about to return to the joy of my book.

"May I join you?" He replied after a few wavering seconds had passed.

I nodded my head slowly, beguiled by the unexpected courtesy of his question. My eyes watched him like a hawk as he glided over to an overfilled shelf and started to browse through the familiar titles; all of which I was sure he had read at least five times. I returned to my own book, whilst occasionally peering over the top of the hard spine to see what Erik was doing. I had become so accustomed to keeping an eye on him now that I found myself doing just that unconsciously - and quite frequently too. Shaking my head clean of Erik, I tried to let the riveting words on the pages I held engross me once more, but with Erik present in the room I deemed that highly impossible.

I turned in my chair until I could see him fully. Well; I could see very little of him as he had his back to me, his shoulders hunched over in what I would only describe to be a very uncomfortable looking position. Still; I took this opportune moment to study him and so I propped my elbows on the chair arm, my head drooped in my palm, and I began. Thanks to the bare candlelight I could see the edge of his gleaming mask, which he always wore no matter the circumstance was – I had to remind myself to bring the delicate matter of his shield up sooner rather than later. I wanted to know why he saw fit to fashion it in my presence even though I had looked upon his face willingly before.

As I dawned on this analysis and began to think hard, the reminiscence of that face crept into the deepest corners of my mind, almost as if it wanted to engrave itself there. You could not expect him to feel comfortable unmasked, even around such a person as myself, not with all those mysteriously tortured years he had only spoken of in encrypted tongue. A lifetime of being shunned and ridiculed would not leave him so easily.

"Christine?" He asked, pulling me out of my daydream for the second time in five minutes.

"What?"

His voice remained calm as he answered. "It's impolite to stare, Christine."

I gasped and quickly turned my head away in the opposite direction, wondering greatly how he had known that I was indeed staring. "I wasn't staring."

"Hmm." He replied grimly.

I pursed my lips and before I knew what I was doing I blurted out, "Where is it?"

His back stiffened but then returned to normal so quickly that if I had blinked I would have missed it. "Where is what?"

I huffed and stood up in one smooth motion. "Do not pretend to be ignorant with me." My words sounded less rough than I had intended. In fact I found myself speaking rather softly. "You know what it is that I speak of."

I merely spoke of the bottle of poison that he sought to hide from me. Every time I tried to bring the subject up, he had dismissed it with the flick of his hand and his gift for changing the course of a conversation in an instant.

"Oh?"

I flinched at the sudden harsh noise of his book slamming shut. I withdrew myself further away from him until I had almost hit the wall, but all the while I never took my eyes away from him. I watched, slightly terrified, as he rose from his seat now showing off his mocking height. He violently threw the book to the side, making it spin radically out of control and land with another flinch worthy thud on the ground. He then began to pursue towards me pressing fear into my heart with every step he took.

"Now," his voice was low and came from deep within his throat. I did not understand – he had never reacted this way when I had spoken of this before! "would you like to clarify what you are talking about?"

"The … the-" I stammered as he approached me at a great speed.

"What? Spit it out!" He growled as he now towered in front of me.

I moved my head to the side, hoping my thick hair would cover my frozen trembling face. "The b-bottle."

"I don't know what bottle this is you speak of and even if I did then it would be no concern of yours!" He snapped at me unexpectedly.

Why did he feel the need to lie to me? I frowned and turned my head back to face him, alarmed at the close proximity of our faces. "I-"

"Enough." He silenced me with the assertiveness straining in his voice and one long finger pressed to my lips. "Enough." He said more softly.

My eyes stared down at that finger and then flickered them upwards to look into his eyes. I flinched at the contact, not intentionally, but it was just that his finger compared to pure ice! Erik, however, didn't seem to notice my movement and continued to stay where he was, eyes trailing from my lips to my eyes.

"I apologise for my reckless reaction a moment ago." He said with his voice now wrapping a cocoon of silk around me. I always wondered how on Earth he managed to create that wondrous sound that departed from his mouth.

I felt myself becoming uneasy with the way he was gazing at me and awkwardly directed my eyes to the floor, whilst not daring to move under his light touch. I didn't even move an inch when his free hand curled around my waist pulling me slightly close to him. I increased the intensity of my stare while at the same time I wished that my sleeping gown was made of a thicker substance. I started to flex my fingers, desperate for something to do. Never throughout my time with Raoul had we been this intimate. Well, oh course we had been intimate, but never had he made me as flustered as this. What was wrong with me?

Erik's rapid mood swing was not helping the situation any more than my embarrassment was. Wherever this sudden urge had come from, I did not know, but Erik had started to delicately trace the shape of my lips with that same finger. His touch was so soft, so kind that my lips had automatically parted in result. He hesitated at this act on my part but then proceeded as before, now tracing along my chin and jaw line, all the way down to the nape of my neck. I found myself gradually easing into his hold more and more. What had come over me all of a sudden?

His breathing stifled as he slowly brought his face closer to mine. My eyelids fluttered shut when his warm breath brushed against my cheek and I heard him exhale a deep sigh. Uncharacteristic of myself; I awaited the moment when I would feel the pressure of his lips against mine, and I awaited this moment with a progressing thirst for it.

I had only ever bestowed one kiss to Erik, one that I was certain was his first, and I had not thought twice on the matter. I had never thought what it would be like to kiss him for that kiss was just an impulse, a sudden idea that rammed itself into my head. Surely I had not been so foolish to think that my kiss would not haunt Erik, surely I had not thought that that was all for him to be satisfied with. No; he would have wanted more. And here I was, willingly offering him it.

All thinking in my inquisitive brain ceased as he pressed his mouth to mine. His malformed lips felt strange against my own, yet I volitionally welcomed the familiar contact. His grip around my waist travelled to the small of my back and he silently pushed me into him. And then, unexpectedly, I felt a warm sensation pass through my body all the way down to the tips of my toes and I realised just how influential his touch could be.

It was all over very quickly for Erik had abruptly released me of his hold and backed away. The look on his unmasked side was aghast, while the other side remained frigid under the control of its porcelain prison. His following jolting movements indicated that he was ashamed over what had passed. He wrung his hands as he paced frantically around the room. I was frozen to the spot, the effect of his kiss still tingled on my lips but my other senses were alive and concentrating on this perplexing man in front of me.

"Forgive me." He pleaded when he halted his pacing, head drooped and hands twitching by his side.

I frowned. Oh, how I _hated _his mood swings.

"Christine." He laughed his famous humourless laugh. "I have once again tainted you with my wickedness, once again you have allowed a monster to touch you. Ha!" He then sighed heavily, slumping his shoulders over which strangely enough made the illusion of his thinness greater. "You are my weakness," he clutched dramatically at the clothing over his heart. "And here you are within my grasp. I have said that I would not let you fall through my fingers again, and I have every intention of keeping that statement alive and true."

He corrected his posture and strode with some seemingly great purpose straight passed me and through the door. I waddled along behind him, confused over his erratic behaviour. "In fact, that reminds me of something ... I have a present for you."

"A p-present?" Oh, why did I have to produce this bothersome nervous stutter around him?

"Yes, one moment please." He then went on into his room and I waited patiently for him to come back out. As I neared the door I heard his muffled words of frustration. "Where did I put the bloody thing? Honestly! I must have put it - _ow!_"

"Are you alright?" I asked as I hovered just outside the door. I heard something fall presumingly onto his foot.

I heard nothing of a reply from him until a few heart beats later when he stumbled out the doorway holding a large looking white box complete with red ribbon. "Here." He said and practically shoved the box into my arms.

I, myself, stumbled in return at his unpredicted strength. "Oh." I peered around and underneath the object contained in my hands and raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, Erik."

He huffed and swiftly turned me round on the spot briskly pushing me towards my room. I turned my head what little I could to try to see what expression he wore on his face. "Oh, do not thank me yet. You do not yet know of its contents."

"I know but-"

"Shh. Now, I want you out of that room as soon as you're ready so I can see."

"See what, Erik?" But it was too late, he had already placed me into my room and shut the door firmly behind him.

I stood there silently glancing at the box before I quickly dropped it onto the soft covers of my bed and lifted the lid. A high gasp escaped my lips as I stared at what was within. I reached out and grasped the gorgeous material and under my grip I flung it out of the box and pressed it against my body. It was a dress, a mighty beautiful dress if I said so myself, and I gazed down in awe at it. My hand ran over the different textures, feeling the slight roughness of the edged frills and the smoothness of the ivory silk front. Layered frills completed the skirt that ventured from the waist to the floor. The whole thing was pale pink, a colour that funnily enough matched my cheeks. Unfortunately, I still owned that child-like appearance which showed in the roundness and rosiness of my cheeks. A ghost of a smile flickered on my lips before I laid the dress down on the bed with the intent to try it on.

I stripped off my sleeping gown in a flash, leaving it in a messy bundle at the foot of my bed, and snatched my petticoat. Once that item of clothing was sorted I reached for my chemise and put it on in record time. My brow furrowed as my midnight black corset was next to be done and after I grabbed it I walked to the mirror upon my vanity. While chewing down on my lip I fumbled my way through fastening the laces up at the back. Oh the buckles at the front were easy enough … it was just that it was such a bother attempting to lace up a corset single-handedly. Although, the last thing on my mind was to ask Erik for help … I wasn't even sure whether or not he knew how it was done!

After a series of agonising minutes filled with sighs and grunts, my corset was firmly in place and my lungs were successfully squeezed together making it nearly impossible for me to breathe. I often questioned the purpose and consequences of wearing a corset; why go through the trouble of cutting off your circulation in order to make your figure more 'ideal' and pleasurable to the eye. I had even witnessed more than one woman fainting during rehearsals on the count that her corset was too tight.

I sighed, as best I could, and walked over to grab the dress once more pleased with the loveliness of it. I slipped it on with effortlessly and stood back trying to see myself fully. I could not suppress a beam of joy when I laid eyes upon myself in the mirror. No, I was never the one to be vain, yet I simply giggled and started to waltz around the room, parading my new clothing around with me. I stopped in my tracks as I noticed that the box was not yet empty, and so I went to see what was left. Perhaps it was a hat to go with the ensemble or a new pair of shoes … but no, I did not find any of these things. Instead I saw a folded pile of delicate lace with intricate patterns consisting of tiny hand sewn swirls and flowers. I clutched wildly at the material as it rose from the box and into the light. I widened my eyes at the sight of a veil in my hands.

"This is my … wedding dress?" I whispered to myself before returning back into the main room where I found Erik pacing flapping his hands together behind his back.

"Oh Christine." He said as he titled his head to the side. "You are a vision."

"I'm flattered." I spoke and I raised a hand to my cheek covering any unwanted colouring that may have seeped through. "Thank you so much, Erik. Tell me, where did you purchase such a magnificent dress?"

He chuckled as he strode over to me, gently pulling the veil out of my hands and fixing it in place on top of my head. He untangled the material at the back so it flowed elegantly behind me. Stepping back to admire his handy work he smiled. "I did not purchase it, I made it."

I stared blankly at him before I was able to produce any form of word. "You … you made this? It's stunning, Erik! How did you manage it?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets." He then stood back even further and sighed, sprawling his hands out in the air towards me. "_Ah_, mia cara. Voi è uno spettacolo bello a vedersi."

It took me a second to figure out what he was saying but once I did I nodded my head as a gesture of thanking him.

"So … you like the dress?" He asked me, maybe because he wasn't entirely convinced of my liking it or maybe he wanted to gloat at his success. I wasn't sure.

"It's lovely." I smiled at him as I ran my fingers over the front, fixing any frills that were out-of-place.

"Good, I'm glad … because you'll be wearing it for the rest of the day."

"Pardon me?" Maybe I had not heard him correctly. "I thought that this was my wedding dress, no? Why would I wear it now? Unless ..." I gasped realising what his intentions were.

"Yes. Did I neglect to mention that today is the day we are to be wed? Oh silly Erik, _silly_, _silly_, _silly_ Erik." He slapped his forehead every time he uttered the word 'silly'.

I half heartedly laughed to myself about the situation I was now in. "Are you … mocking me?"

"Hardly." He scoffed. "Now, come with me."

"_No_, I will not be rushed to the alter without a second word against it. This is all very sudden, Erik. If we are to be wed-"

"Which we are meant to be ... _today_. I have all the arrangements sorted."

I carried on pretending I had not heard him. "If we are to be wed so soon, at least allow me time to prepare myself for the vows and such. You would not want a flustered looking bride standing in front of you saying our vows after running the whole journey there, no?"

He sighed and I smiled as I thought my words were being to sway him. "Hmm, no I do not want a flustered bride..." His melodramatic masked face perked up sharply. "But fear not! We shall go by horseback, Christine. Come!"

"Ha! You will need all the luck you can get to march me down the isle today, Erik."

"Ah but you have forgotten one detail, my dear."

"And what is that?" I placed my hands on my hips trying to look as fierce as my petite body would allow.

He slid two objects out of a little velvet roped bag and held them up to me, protruding them in my direct line of sight. The two glistening objects were bands, two wedding rings. A grin spread smugly over his chalk face making his skin seem slightly coarse and stretched. "I make my own luck."

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	4. Chapter 4

**Yikes, sorry for the late update, but it's exam time so that's not great when you're trying to write and do other things ... but I've finally finished this chapter! Yay! And thanks again for all the feedback! Oh and just to let you know I have big plans for this story which will make it pretty long - so I guess all I can say is sit back and enjoy the ride!:)**

Chapter 4

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I had countless memories of the young ballerinas gossiping about their fantasies of marriage during my time at the Opera House. These nonsensical girls chattered on throughout many constant nights, huddled in one corner, giggling about their futures and what untold joy and riches lay in store for them. Their hushed whispers had carried flickers of hope and excitement through the shaded halls of the dormitories, and I often found myself listening to them outside the dormitory door, for I was not welcome any other way. I shook my head and even laughed at myself when thinking back at how delusional these girls were, and more importantly, how delusional I allowed them make me. They spoke of true love, knights in shining armour that would one day carry them off into the sunset. A picture book ending. I had believed them. How silly it seemed now; how could we fill our minds with such talk of love when we had not even experienced what it felt like? We had not experienced the first meeting, nor the first vows, nor the first kiss... Yet now that I had come to terms with all of these, I had to ask myself, what was love?

Even on today, my wedding day, I was not sure what love truly was. I thought I knew of its promises when with Raoul, but that all changed when Erik precipitously pronounced his love for me. On that fatal night these two men who sought my love had torn my heart in half. My mind wretched me away from the dark and into Raoul's arms, but my soul led me away from daylight and under Erik's command. These two men had changed my life so drastically that I even had trouble thinking clearly. Before them, my life ceased to have any purposeful meaning and I was patiently awaiting the time when it would.

Yet this was not the way I had dreamed my wedding to be like. Not at all.

My heart violently pounded against my rib cage like a savage beast wanting to escape it's cold prison as my eyes followed every single movement in front of me.

Erik, who had been in his room for the past ten minutes, finally emerged in an all black ensemble. I would have said that there was no change in clothes on him were it not for the distinct gleam from his shoes and white gloves on his hands. I couldn't help but stare at these curious new objects on his hands because seldom did you see him wear white. It was such a foreign shade for him.

He adjusted them making sure they fitted properly before looking up at me. His eyes softened when he saw my figure still dressed in my specially made wedding gown. "Are you ready?" He asked.

I gulped and looked down at my veil, now twisted and scrunched within my fingers. Was I ready? The answer was no. However, a promise was a promise and I intended on keeping every one I made. My eyes remained on the beautiful fabric in my grasp for a few seconds more before putting on my bravest, most convincingly placid expression and looked up to where Erik was standing. My smile faltered slightly when I saw him standing proudly with a hand extended out towards me.

I found that I could not say a word against this ordeal because I knew that it would just end in hassle and hatred. I had to admit that this marriage was a little rushed into, and that was what terrified me. It made me tremble to my very core to think that Erik could not wait a few months before wanting to claim me as his. It had only been a week or so since I had excepted his proposal, but I had not thought about the conditions it would bring.

Not one word of protest made its way to my lips, in fact no words seemed to be able to make their way to my lips. So instead, I nodded and slipped my hand into his before allowing him to lead me to our future. I noticed that his grip on my hand was extremely tight; not because it was his aim to inflict pain, but instead because he was scared I might flee.

I stayed silent and rigid as he led me, not through the lake exit but, through unfamiliar disconsolate corridors. And to make matters worse, there was no light in these passages and I often found myself tripping over my own feet. It was times such as those that I was thankful for Erik's guiding hand. How was it that he was able to see his way through the darkness?

After what seemed like a lifetime of unfortunate stumbles, we arrived at an old worn out-door. I held my breath as I saw the sun beams stream in through the cracks of the wood. Erik momentarily released my hand to unlock the door and as he did I took a couple of steps backwards. Should I have escaped? No, where would I have gone? I would have been lost endlessly in these passage ways...

But there was another reason for my not running at this moment, and that was the chance to feel the glorious warmth of the sun against my skin once more – if there even was a sun to bask in. For all I knew it could have been evening or even dusk. Fortunately my first thought was confirmed for as soon as Erik had swung the door open the glow of the sun radiated up against my skin. I fluttered my eyelids shut, basking in this old acquaintance I thought long gone. I sighed, content, and when I opened my eyes I took note that this was the evening sun, one of the most spectacular and beautiful sights that I had laid eyes upon in the natural world. But even so, naturally my vision had blurred and I squinted as I waited for my eyes to adjust to the surrounding lighting.

Gradually I opened my eyes fully and I was now able to see where I was. We were stood in a clearing amongst what appeared to be very large towering trees. I stepped out of the hallway, the veil being held loosely between my fingers making the bottom skim the ground slightly, and smiled as I felt my feet come into contact with the Earth once again.

I felt Erik's wary eyes on my figure as I ventured out into this unknown place. It was no where that I had been before – that I knew for certain. Having being so used to the cobbled uneven streets of the city, I had almost forgotten what it was like to be at one with nature. The ground was stacked with greenery accompanied with deep browns and oranges, the air was thick and scented and there was a slight layer of fog that sat one foot off the floor.

"Where are we?" I asked as I walked further into the woods with Erik trailing behind me silently.

"That is irrelevant." His voice was short. "Now, I shall be gone for a few minutes, so stay in this exact spot until my return."

I frowned and turned to face him. A gasp escaped my lips when I saw that he was closer than I had originally thought. "Gone?" I raised an eyebrow. "How can you be sure that I will not run?"

"Where is there to run to? You have no idea where you are and I think you are not stupid enough to try to find your way back through there." He said and pointed a finger towards the door we had just come through. I sighed and stared at my feet. He was right. "I'll be back shortly."

When I looked up to protest he was already gone, the only remaining thing from him was the cool waft of air produced his abrupt leaving. My fingers reached up to nervously fiddle with one of my many ringlets and I bit my lip as I waited. Where was I? How close was I to home? Where had Erik gone off to? Yes; I wasn't stupid enough to turn back and run but these winding paths and sheltering branches looked awfully tempting, although as I stared into these trees I started to wonder what strange things would be lurking behind every turn. It wasn't safe to try that route, especially when I was not prepared or equipped properly. I clicked my tongue. I made a binding promise to remain by Erik's side, had I not? So why was I thinking about escaping? I suppressed a heavy sigh as I already knew the answer to this question.

Suddenly a snap sounded behind me and I spun around as fast as the eye could see dropping the veil in the process. I could not see anything out of the ordinary nor could I see anything within the radius that could have been responsible for making that noise, and so I warily picked the veil up.

Five minutes or less had passed and Erik had still not returned and I was still left alone in these now alarming woods. I had not heard another peculiar unexplained sound but instead I had heard a soft moan that floated through the air and wind like a spectre or lost soul. I shook my head and gave my bravest smile, I knew that there was no such thing as ghosts. I had never believed the ballet rats at the opera house when they said it was haunted and I never believed one single story that was passed on through person to person. And I was right to do just that for I knew the truth of this so-called 'haunting'. However, just because I didn't believe in ghosts did not mean that I was frightened by the very mention of them. And now, standing by myself in a forest with a chill on my spine and a fear in my heart, I was beginning to think otherwise about these stories I had been told.

But as soon as my worry came, it vanished because out of the darkening distance came Erik with a rather large creature in tail. I was relieved when I his well-known figure suddenly and found myself nearly throwing my arms around him in comfort. As he came closer I then saw clearly what he was walking behind him and I gasped at the sight of it. It was the most gorgeous sleek black stallion I had ever seen, and my word was it huge - it almost towered a good two feet above Erik!

"How did you...?" I was a lost of words. Never before had I seen this horse and was instantly inquisitive to know where he got this fine specimen. I eyed him suspiciously, perhaps thinking he might have stolen it from a carriage of a lowly nobleman. "You didn't s-steal him, d-did y-you?"

"No, oh course not." He scoffed, not making my accusation any less valid in my mind. "And stop that infernal stuttering." He added.

Embarrassed but also quite affronted at his telling off I shuffled my feet, directing my gaze up to meet the stallion's eyes every so often. "S-sor..." I started before I sighed and looked up, making sure my voice was stable enough this time before speaking. "Sorry."

I watched engrossingly at Erik's long contrasting fingers brushing the short hair of the creature's coat and saw that it responded quite positively to his touch by shaking its head and nudging his arm. I noticed that it's eyes were black and shimmering like opals, although less transcendent than Erik's. "This is Caesar, and before you can charge a crime against me that was not committed – no, again, I did not steal him. He is mine."

"Yours?" I could hardly believe it, though I guess it wasn't entirely impossible for him to possess such an animal as this. "He's beautiful. But Caesar is an unusual name for a horse." I muttered underneath my breath.

"Yes, well it would deem fit to name him this because of its meaning." When I raised an eyebrow, he knew what I meant and went on to explaining as he fixed the ageing saddle and placed my veil carefully into the side satchel. "Caesar is a title of an Imperial character, someone of great power. Now look at him," He stood back to admire his magnificence. "wouldn't you not agree that he does not hold power within this strong build and mind?"

Before I had the chance to reply, my feet were suddenly swept off the ground and I fell backwards into Erik's strong arms. I let out a tiny shriek and had no other choice but to cling onto Erik for dear life seeing as he almost made me have a heart attack. I glared at him when I saw that he wore a very smug looking grin across his pastel-like face, however my attempt to make him stop only increased his amusement further. He light-heartedly shrugged, which I only assumed was a pathetic excuse of an apology, and placed me onto the saddle. I frantically gripped the reins and stared at my legs which were dangling off the edge of the horse on one side. I had no idea how exactly how tall Caesar was until now. After a stiff gulp ran down my throat I felt Erik mount himself up onto the horse behind me and gently pull the reins out of my hands. And with a quick motion with his feet in the stirrups either side of the horse, we were off.

I tried to tell myself to stay calm, but as I felt my heart beat quicken and my hands start to sweat, whatever calmness that I did have had started to deteriorate. I shut my eyes tightly, blocked out all sound except the clicking of hooves against the ground, and tried not to let the fact that my back was pressed right up against Erik's chest bother me.

It seemed as if Erik was keeping to the shadows against the already dimming light while we galloped to our destination. But then again, why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't he take every precaution to ensure our safety and secrecy? No one, to my eyes, noticed us, not even when we rode through quaint little streets illuminated only by a few gas lit street lamps. It was awfully misty here too, more so than it had been in those woods a while back, and I shivered slightly when I felt the damp air touch my bare skin.

Erik, observing this, asked, "Are you alright? If you are cold then you can use the cloak I have brought. Is that what you wish?"

I was tempted to smile at his kindness. "No, thank you." I rubbed my hands together nervously. "How much further is it?"

"A couple of miles." He replied quietly.

"Oh," a couple of miles? "Alright." I couldn't do this. "Erik?"

"Yes?" His warm breath landed on my skin making my hairs stand up at the back of my neck.

"I ..." How was I to tell him to turn back without unleashing his unspeakable anger? I thought about faking an illness for a moment, not anything major but maybe just a headache. I wouldn't want him being vigilant to my every need only to then find out that I was lying about 'said' illness. "I … I feel a bit light-headed." But after all I was an actress and I could make this act believable. "Would you mind stopping please?" And I would do almost anything to not prolong this horrendous inevitable. "I think I need to sit still … I think I may faint."

He sighed, once again allowing me to feel his breath against my neck. "Very well. But only for a few minutes, after all, we have a schedule to keep." If there was one thing that Erik was, it was punctual.

"Where exactly are we?" I asked after dismounting the horse, in a part of the street that was concealed by darkness, and pretending to regain my strength.

"The Rue Saint-Honoré." He replied curtly.

My ears perked up at the very mention of the name. In fact, to my surprise, we were not that far from the Opera House. However, I had no idea about the exact details of our journey and where on earth we had ridden from to get here. Yet, I recalled that this was where Mamma Valerius had moved to after there was no more need for her to be living in a secluded little cottage any more. She was an elderly woman who, unfortunately, was coming about the time when she would require help to do even the smallest minuscule of tasks, and so she had hired a few maids to help out.

"Mamma Valerius lives on this street, Erik." I blurted out before I had a chance to stop myself.

He just stared blankly towards me. "Your point being?"

I shrugged absent-mindedly and continued, "Well, I have not seen her in such a long time and ..." I needed an excuse to see her. There was a slight possibility, however small that may have been, that she could have helped me. "... and I would like her blessing before we are w-wed."

His black orbs flickered to focus on the shadowed pavement. "I would prefer not to-"

"Please," I literally begged of him. "Please Erik, grant me this one wish."

His brow creased in what I only saw as an indicator of him considering what I was saying. I nervously toyed with my fingers as I waited for his answer. "Very well." He said at long last.

I grinned widely and nodded as a term of my appreciation. My feet automatically started to drag me in the direction of the appointed apartment when Erik's voice held me back. "Wait." I did not hear any footsteps advancing behind me but turned my head slightly to look at him when a foreign thick material was wrapped around my neck and shoulders. It was the cloak that Erik was talking about and I gratefully excepted the warmth that it provided me. I murmured a thank you before walking of again.

I instantly knew that Erik would not permit me simply wander off by my self and so naturally he accompanied me at a safe distance, his feet barely skimming the floor. I resisted turning to look at him as I walked.

When I arrived at the apartment door I raised my hand up with a small smile playing on my lips. I only hesitated knocking when Erik's voice sounded from directly beside me. "You know you seem awfully well for someone who stated that they were going to faint not five minutes ago."

I stared at the door and loosely shrugged my shoulders – I could almost sense the irritated smirk forming on his face. Deciding to ignore him I knocked on the door lightly three times. There was no answer. So I knocked again, and again. I had almost given up and was about to walk away from my chance of freedom when the door suddenly creaked opened. A small, unhealthily skinny servant girl, no older than eleven stood in the door way – her head half cowered behind the door frame. Her eyes seemed to light up when she saw me.

Through her dry cracked lips she whispered, "Mad-mademoiselle Christine?"

I strained my memory for a few seconds trying desperately to figure out who this little girl was, and then finally I remembered. "Simone?" I whispered back before cranking my head to the side to get a better look at this child.

"Oui." She replied, a tiny smile playing on her tiny features.

"Oh." I breathed happily, crouching at her eye level, as she opened the door and took a step towards me. I had not seen Simone in almost four years on account that her Mother preferred for her to be out of sight. "My, look how you've grown! Come here, let me see you." I beckoned her closer and was immediately met by her eager little arms wrapping themselves around my neck. She giggled.

"Mademoiselle Christine, it is so good to see you again! But why have you come here at this hour and alone too?"

I frowned and pulled her back so I could look at her in level with her auburn eyes. "Alone? I am not alo-" I turned to my right to see nothing but empty air. Erik had fled from civilisation once again. I shook my head, trying to not feel any worry for his whereabouts, and looked back at her. "Never mind. Where is your Mother, dear?"

"Inside, she … she is ill. I am taking care of her as well as resuming my duties about the apartment." She gave me a forced brave smile and I returned an equally forced one. "Oh," she spoke suddenly. "We must get you inside, Mademoiselle Christine, you will freeze out here." Her little fingers wrapped around my wrist and dragged me inside shutting the door quietly behind us as we passed.

I immediately felt a wave of relief as I was greeted by the roaring warmth of the fire in the next room and the overwhelming aroma of perfume. "How is your Mother's condition? How is she?" I asked at last.

"Hon är bra." I watched Simone beam proudly when she had replied in my native language. She clasped her hands in front of her and swung her arms side to side, which I noted was very sweet. "I still remember some of what you taught me, Mademoiselle Christine." I smiled once again at her wonderful memory and at how pleased I was that she was still so articulate, considering her upbringing.

"That is very good to hear, Simone. You are a very clever girl." I adored her in fact. "And how is Madame Valerius?"

"She is also well, Mademoiselle Christine."

I smiled. "Good." I began to make my way up the short stack staircase. "Now; run along, dear, I can see myself to Madame Valerius–" I stopped and turned to Simone, who was standing patiently at the bottom of the stairs. "Oh, speaking of which, where is she?" Due to old customs I normally made my way to Mamma Valerius's room as soon as I entered her cottage, however this was not her cottage but an apartment in which I forgot I had never been to before.

"Upstairs, first door on the left. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask, Mademoiselle Christine." She replied before scuttling away towards the seemingly small polished kitchen.

I didn't want to waste any more time dawdling at new objects and artefacts placed proudly upon a shelf so I hurried up the stairs, the hem of my dress in my grasp.

I felt oddly strange entering a house in which I knew nothing about, but true to Simone's word Mamma Valerius was situated in the first door on the left. I shyly stood outside carefully listening to , what sounded like, turning of pages and an occasional sigh. I wanted to stay and listen to her a little while longer but I shifted my weight resulting in one of the floorboards under my feet creaking.

"Simone, is that you?" I smiled at the soft reminiscent of her tender voice.

"No," I pushed the door open and looked at my surrogate mother with utter adoration. "It's me."

"Christine? Christine, dear, come in, come in!" Oh how I had missed her.

I entered and was about to greet her with an embrace when she held up one worryingly looking frail hand. I frowned at the sight of it. "Turn, dear, let me see you properly." She placed her book down on the little table beside her.

I indulged her and turned around slowly allowing her look at me properly. I couldn't help feel like a mannequin on display.

"You look lovely, but thin." She sighed, as she folded her hands onto her lap. "What is that fiancé of yours feeding you?"

I froze and felt my fingers twitch ever so slightly. "Er, R-Raoul is not m-my fiancé anymore, Mamma."

A horrifying look of confusion and suspicion washed over Mamma Valerius's face. "What on Earth are you talking about? Oh course you are, why, only yesterday I was speaking with him-"

"You were?" I ran and dropped to my knees in front of her. "What did he say? H-how is he? Is he well?"

"Calm down, dear, you speak as if you have not seen him in months." I frowned – it seemed that she did not know about our situation and my kidnapping. Maybe Raoul did not mention this to her because he wanted to spare her worry.

I composed myself before asking, "Where did you speak to him?"

"Not at the Opera House, and I apologise that I have not been able to attend your performances over the last few months. It would seem that I need help just to stand up nowadays." She chuckled dryly but I clutched to her hand comforting her. "Anyway, I don't suppose that really matters seeing as you are having a rest period."

"Rest period?"

"Yes, that woman – oh, you know the one. She has a stern look about her, beady eyes, middle-aged, carries a walking cane-"

"Madame Giry?"

"Yes, that's the one. Madame Giry had informed me the other day that you are taking a rest period so that you can recover from all this ghost nonsense. I would have inquired after you were if not for Raoul's visit. He stated that you are fine – he seemed dreadfully uneasy when he spoke of you though," she then added as an after note to herself. "Perhaps that is why he never mentioned your engagement," her eyes shot back to me. "Why, pray, are you not engaged to him?"

"I-I, er … I am engaged to s-someone else."

"Who?" She asked immediately, her inquisitiveness rising as well as her annoyance. "Do I know him? Is he of a good background? And why does he think he can just announce your engagement before consulting me first?"

"He's..." This was a difficult question to answer and I couldn't tell her that I was to be married to the Opera Ghost – she would think me mad! "It's complicated."

"Hmm. What of his character?" She asked.

"He's a wonderful musician." At least that wasn't a lie. "A genius, in fact. He is a composer and an architect and..." I sighed. "He's brilliant, he excels in most of, if not all things he sets out to do."

"Well, that's all very well, dear. But what of his _character_?" She asked again.

"Um, well," I swallowed a lump in my throat before continuing, "he is kind and thoughtful and an excellent teacher. He has guided me through some tough times and I am thankful for that. But," I wrinkled my nose slightly. "He is very stubborn, and irritably and has an awful temper sometimes-"

Mamma Valerius chuckled and patted the back of my hand lightly. I raised an eyebrow at her sudden cheerfulness. "Oh, Christine. You remind me of myself when I was your age." She sighed. "I used to talk that way about my husband, God rest his soul, early on in my marriage. You will grow to love those little annoying habits, though. Yes, it takes time, but you will learn to care for them and the person that they belong to greatly."

_Why should the way I talk about Erik have anything to do with the way she used to talk about the late Monsieur Valerius? Did she care for him back then? If so then, and if I remind her of herself, do I care for Erik? Surely not! At least not in the way she is speaking of!_

I decided not to wonder on that anymore and so I gave her a short sweet smile before saying, "Believe me when I say that I know that our engagement is brief-"

"Hmm." She replied flatly.

"-but," I continued, "I-I have to marry him."

"Why, dear?"

"B-because..." I felt hot salty tears sting in my eyes and I hung my head down on her lap as I started to sob. "... Because I have to, do not …. do not a-ask me q-questions. But please-" I looked up at her with desperation, my grip on her hands tightened to a point where they were slowly turning white. "-please, for Raoul's sake, do not tell him of my visit, nor mention my new engagement to him. It is for his safety."

She produced a handkerchief with hand stitched initials from her sleeve and slipped her fingers underneath my chin to lift up my head. "What do you mean, his _safety_?" She asked as she delicately wiped away my tears with her mothering touch I so longed craved for.

I took a ragged breath and bit my already chewed lip. "Well, my fiancé and Raoul do not … get along. In fact, it is best for both of them that they do not come into contact with each other."

"But why do you cry at the very mention of your new fiancé, dear?" She sensed my reluctance so whispered, "I have done nothing but care for you these past years and you know you an always confide in me."

Her persuasion swayed me and I spoke very quietly, paranoia setting in as my eyes darted towards the window and the door. "I am so very afraid for his soul … and for mine. He has done things in his past that … that are bad and I am afraid that his soul may be lost forever." It was true. I was worried for his soul, for I did not believe him when he said that my love would redeem him. There was more to it. If his soul was to be with God in the end, he would have to be saved – maybe not in the conventional way but in one way none the less.

Her hands gently pushed me away suddenly and I was appalled when I saw that she was attempting to stand up. My hands travelled immediately for her elbows to stable her but she waved me off with a flick from her bony hand. I stood there helplessly watching her like a hawk just in case she was in the least bit unstable. She hobbled over to the dresser on the other side of the room and I followed right behind her. My eyes roamed the messy dresser until I saw what she was reaching for. She held it up highly and bestowed one small kiss to it before placing it in my open palms.

I stared wide-eyed at the object before roaming my thumb over the soft surface. It was a beaded necklace with a large wooden cross hanging from it. "I cannot take this, this-"

"-was your Mother's." She said as she leaned against the dresser.

"My Mother's?" I blinked and took a little step back before looking up at Mamma Valerius. "You-you kept this from me?"

"No, dear, I did not. Your Father informed me that she wanted it to be a wedding present and now, seeing as you are to be wed, you can have it. I give this to you from her as a reminder of her and of God." She leaned over to press a gentle kiss on my forehead. "I wish you the best."

After this exchange I hurried a goodbye and swore that I would do my best to visit soon. I clutched the cross to my chest as I went to exit the house, however before I did I ran back to my old room and gathered some spare pieces of clothing for me to wear. I carefully wrapped the cross up in one piece of, at that moment, unidentified material so that Erik would not see it.

"Goodbye, Mademoiselle Christine." Spoke Simone.

"Goodbye, Simone. I hope your Mother is in good health soon."

And with that I closed the door behind me.

"You know," I flinched at the abrupt sound of Erik's voice in the darkness. "It makes me pity myself even more."

I frowned as we walked in the shadows back to the awaiting horse. "What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about your conversation in there about me." I froze directly on the spot and stared at the slightly wet ground wide-eyed. How did he know about that? "I always knew my love was unrequited, especially now after hearing you speak about the boy in such a way. So what glimmer of hope is there that you could possible love me...?" He sighed.

We had reached Caesar by now and he had once again swept me off my feet and placed me on top of the saddle, the bundle of clothes and cross still held within my arms. I stared at him with uncontrollable pity. "Erik, please allow me to explain-"

"No." He spoke curtly. "No, don't explain anything to me." He then mounted the horse himself and set it into a trot. "I would do anything for you, Christine. _Anything_. I would and will do anything to make you mine … even if that means waiting to be wed."

I tried to turn my head to face him with a shock written expression. "You will not force me?"

He paused, his eyes burning straight ahead. "I will not force you." A flood of relief entered me and it felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

When we arrived back at the lair I had given Erik a brief nod before turning for my room. I had not taken two steps when my hand was suddenly caught between his long cold fingers. My head stayed in place while my eyes flickered back to watch him. He slowly brought my hand up to his pale mouth and I shivered as he pressed his lips against my skin. Quickly after releasing my hand he twirled around and strode into his bed chamber, slamming the door. I followed his actions, and returned to my room glad to finally rid myself of this dress.

As I lay on my silk strewn bed with my cross in my palm, Erik's words crept into my mind and I began to play them over and over again before I was finally able to escape into my dreams.___ 'I would and will do anything to make you mine'..._

o0o


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

o0o

I bit my lip as I cautiously crept out of my room, my newly appointed cross hung around my neck and next to my bosom underneath my many layers of clothing, making my way slowly towards the library. My bare feet tingled at the feel of the textured rugs beneath me, but I did not want to savour the feeling, I only wanted to be left alone.

Last night had become something of a revelation for me in that I realised the true meaning of my fate and began to imagine the trailing years to come. Would I still be in this position, still resisting _him_ and trying to steal every opportune moment of freedom? Or would I be in the warm soft embrace of someone I loved surrounded by my children?

As much as I Erik irritated me on the verge on loathing sometimes, I couldn't bring myself to completely hate him – not after everything he has done for my well-being. However, after I re-thought the events of the previous night I couldn't help but suppress a shiver in disgust. He was going to force me into marriage! I then allowed my restless mind to wander and think of what might have happened if I had not made the effort of that detour to Mamma Valerius's apartment … if it wasn't for that I would have been married … what would have happened then? What would have happened that night …?

I quietly entered the library and decided to relax with whatever book first reached my fingers. I made my way over to the many rows of books and selected one at random. I did not recognise the title but, nevertheless, I settled down on settee and began to read.

An hour must have slipped by when I suddenly heard a faint echoing of music drift from all directions. I frowned and straightened myself up wondering where this sound could be coming from. The music started to increase to a dramatic crescendo, now filling the room completely. For a brief moment I thought that it was Erik's music I was hearing, but that was impossible due to the acoustics.

Rising slowly from my chair I continued to listen intently. The music was a faint hum, but it was there nevertheless and it didn't take me much longer to recognise it as Brindisi from Verdi's La Traviata. And La Carlotta was singing it, well, 'singing' in the least sense of the word. I winced as her native Spanish tongue couldn't digest the Italian libretto perfectly and ended up sounding strange and muddled.

While listening to the rehearsals above, I couldn't help but think, _would they replace me that quickly? Time must really have escaped me for how long have I truly been down here? Is Raoul still looking for me? … Is anyone still looking for me? _

"I don't know why I didn't kill her when I had the chance." My posture stiffened as Erik's gruff voice sounded from the doorway.

I stared at him, wide-eyed in horror, "Do not say that! You-you can't do that! I-"

"I'm teasing." He replied shortly, but still it did not calm the frantic pounding of my drum-like heart.

I inhaled deeply before replying rather shakily, "I don't care whether or not you were teasing or not, you shouldn't joke about these things! It's not funny, at all." I shuffled my feet awkwardly away from him so I was facing the wall.

"Come now, Christine." He slowly entered the room, hands clasped in front of him, with his infamous smirk plastered upon his pale face. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he was keeping to the edges of the room, as if he sensed my unease. "Do not tell me that you would not want rid of that woman if given the opportunity?"

I knew he still held that jesting manner within his tone, but all the while I could not forget how darkly he used to speak of her. In not knowing what to say I simply shrugged my shoulders making the cheap material on them ruffle.

"Now, _how _exactly to get rid of her is the question." He continued. "Hmm, perhaps I could make her croak – oh, no, no! I have already done that and I need something original..."

As I placed one hand on the mantle piece above the roaring fire, I turned my head around until he was completely in view.

"Perhaps," he continued, almost to himself, "I could tie her up in the old storage room no one ventures down there any more, or I could blackmail her or even pay her a little visit myself..."

Though this was a completely different context, Erik's plotting about Carlotta reminded me of how Meg and I used to talk about her. We used to think up dastardly horrible things that could happen to her, though to be honest, it was mostly Meg who came up with these ideas.

Perhaps it would have been too forward to ask for visiting privileges at this point in time, yet the more I stayed down here, the more my craving for light and warmth grew. Yes, I had my first outing yesterday, but it was only a fragment of freedom and ever since then Erik's corridors leading to the outside have been tempting and taunting me. They had invaded my dreams last night and now, with Erik's incessant ramblings and such on Carlotta and the faint echoing of rehearsals surrounding me, I could bare it no longer.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted it out. "I wish to return to rehearsals." I slammed my eyes shut and exhaled, now extremely annoyed with myself. I heard a long sigh emitted from Erik and I gradually squinted my eyelids open to see what his reaction was.

"Return?" Erik asked, no hesitation nor anger within his voice. He edged forward, hands still clasped in front of him, eyes darting between myself and the floor. I steadied myself for what was to come, after all, his nonchalant approach was unbearably sinister and I could only guess what would happen. "Why do you wish to return so soon? Is it not comfortable down here for you any more? Have you already grown tiresome living with me?"

"No!" I hastily reassured him, sensing the growing tension that had started to radiate off him. "Oh c-course not!" I did not want to anger him, but this subject was something that I needed to pursue. "It's just that-"

"What?" He interrupted harshly.

I dropped my gaze to his unhurried approaching feet. I was an expected coward when it came to reliving his ghost persona and those piercing eyes. "I-I only wished to return to performing on the stage. Please, may I be allowed to attend rehearsals once more?"

"No. You belong here, with me." Erik replied curtly.

I raised my eyes and stumbled towards him with a look of pure desperation woven between the layers of my skin. "Please! What if I attended but I only watched, unnoticed and unseen? Would it please you then?"

Something unrecognisable flashed in Erik's eyes briefly before he swiftly turned his back to me. "Why this sudden longing, Christine?"

"It is not sudden, at all." I glanced away from his rigid back to stare into the burning fire, watching the flames dance and twist around one and other. "You, of all people, should know my desire to sing on stage. If you remove that from my life then you have removed a part of me in doing so."

"Why must you be on stage to sing? You are perfectly capable of singing here, and you can do so whenever you wish!" He hissed.

I risked a look at Erik, instantly regretting it when I saw his balled fists. "Please." It was all I could muster out of my mouth. I turned my head towards Erik and said solemnly, "Please, if you love me at all."

This caught Erik's attention. He whirled around and strode over to me, closing the distance between us considerably. His black eyes searched my face sternly until he was sure that I was paying him close attention. He brought his hands up and slowly wrapped his skeletal fingers around the tops of my arms.

He lowered his head so that he was at eye level with me. "Oh course I love you! Do you doubt my love for you, Christine?"

I stared into those deep orbs of his and saw nothing but adoration, even if his voice and body language said different."No."

"Oh course you do!" He exclaimed as if I had said nothing. "Why else would you use it as a means of blackmailing me for your own personal gain? I would do anything you ask of me, don't you understand that?" His grip on me tightened and I bit my lip to stop myself from whimpering.

"If that is true then why deny me this?" I whispered, my breathing unbelievably steady.

His fingers uncurled sharply from my arms as he took a few long steps back, staring blankly at me all the while. "I-I..." He exhaled acutely and turned away from me once again whilst running a hand over his thin hair in annoyance. After a few pained moments of just hearing Erik's breathing he spoke, "I will grant you your request, but only on one condition."

"And what is that?" I asked, finding the strength to move from my rooted spot next to the fireplace until I was face to face with Erik's back.

When he finally spoke his voice came out timid and unusually quiet. "I would like something in return."

I burrowed my brow wondering what it was that he possibly could have wanted. "Yes, what?"

He began to fiercely shake his head and I noticed that his posture had gradually begun to grow weak and until he was slightly hunched over. "A kiss."

I swallowed a forming lump in my throat and released the breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Oh, I shouldn't have asked." Erik cried dismally. "What made me think I was worthy enough?"

For a moment, I wasn't sure what to do. I stood there, frozen, my mouth gaping at his request. However, with the fixation of returning above ground driving through me like a stake, I was able to place all ill-mannered feelings aside and respond, "Erik?"

He turned his head slightly in my direction, as if to say something, before deciding against it and stayed facing away from me. I sighed and tentatively reached for his shoulder, pushing his lean body around to face me. His head was drooped but I could feel his black eyes flickering up to look at me every so often.

With my free hand I hesitantly cupped his bony chin, resisting the urge to wince at the lack of flesh and fat that should have resided there. I raised his head slowly, letting him know that I was not completely afraid, but I was willing nonetheless. His short rapid breathing tickled the skin on my hand as I carefully leaned in towards him. My head stopped short of his, our noses almost touching, as I brought my lips softly to his. The kiss lasted for a few seconds before Erik pulled his head away from my touch. My discarded hand remained in the air for a couple more moments before I brought both hands back to my body. I produced a soothing smile on my face and directed it towards Erik, hoping that he was happy with what had just occurred.

"Thank you." He whispered.

He staggered back a few steps before clearing his throat, straightening his posture and returned to his full height. Erik's powerful demeanour had been restored within those bare seconds and I often wondered if I would ever figure out his transitions completely.

"As compromised, I will take you to watch the ongoing rehearsals later in the afternoon. I will come and call on you when we are ready to leave." He spoke monotonously.

I gave him one last small smile before nodding. Deciding that my untouched book on the chair no longer held any interest for me and I had yet to figure out anything else that would bide time, I simply slipped past Erik and walked to my room. Although I did not make one glance in the slightest back towards the library, I was certain that he was watching me leave.

It was only after I sealed the door shut that I clasped my hands together in one swift motion and proceeded to prance around the available space happily. I ended up collapsing onto the bed with a thump, sprawling my arms and legs out contently and in a very non lady like fashion.

I relaxed into the soft folds of silk and succumbed to my thoughts, my eye lids fluttering closed.

o0o

I had a strange and peculiar dream within those few hours of waiting.

_I am ten, I think. _

_I run fast and freely like the wind that is blowing through my nest of curls at this very moment. The sun prickles on my bare skin on my arms and I stop for a moment to smile. I am alone, no one is near by and so I pick up the hem of my dress and run faster than before. I let out an infantile giggle as I see a large green hill in front of me. _

_With no formal conviction or care I journey up the steep hill,  
collecting a few grown flowers on my way. As I reach the top of the hill, I have to catch my breath. But then, I see it. There, not 100 yards away from me is a gorgeous willow tree. I smile as I see its drooping branches moving almost majestically in the light breeze. _

_I take one step closer to it before stopping dead in my tracks. I frown. I can hear a soft echo of a violin beginning to play an opening allegro with great spirit. I remain where I am for a minute to listen to the strange melody. I tilt my head to the side, puzzled, when I realise that the notes are being created by the swaying branches and the wind is acting as the bow. I want to know how this tree could be doing this and so I step forward. _

_When I reach the half way point the melody changes drastically and replacing the lovely whimsical tune that was just playing is a mournful sounding piece. The wind and branches are now set in a slow sweeping movement that sends a shiver down my spine. As I walk towards it more the notes start to get louder and more harsh until I am standing right next to it. I try to hold out a hand to it but I stop because of what I hear next. There is a horrendous screech of a flat note – it is so loud and piercing that I have to cover my ears, the collected flowers fall to the ground. When the note dies off into the wind, one by one the leaves from the willow tree begin to fall down all around me. _

_I collapse next to the trunk watching, confused, as a warm liquid starts to temp my tear ducts into releasing it. My eyes blink away the developing tears as I stare at the lush brown bark slowly turning a morbid black. My hand flies to my mouth as I see the entire tree start to shrivel up._

"_My dear Christine, what is the matter, child?" Asks an oh-so familiar voice. _

_I turn my weary head to see my Father kneeling next to me, his hand outstretched towards me, amongst the pile of fallen leaves. "Papa?"_

_He smiles kindly and I immediately grab his hand to assure myself that he is here beside me. "Yes Christine," he replies, "now tell me what is upsetting you."_

"_Oh, Papa!" I cry into his shoulder. "How can you be here?"_

"_Never mind the how, just wonder about the why." He begins to stroke my hair. Oh how I love his kind, sweet, loving voice and touch! "I am here because you are crying, now tell me why you are and I will try to make it all better."_

_I blink back upcoming tears and try to smile. "I am crying … because I am afraid."_

"_Why are you afraid?"_

_I clutch onto his hand tighter. "Because … because I do not know what to do. What has happened to the music and the tree? Why did they both die when I came closer?"_

"_Hush Christine, it's alright." I shake my head, irritably. "Sweetheart, look at me," he said while placing his fore finger under my chin to lift it, "do not worry, the music still lives! For you see the tree is not really dead." _

"_What?" I ask sounding unbelievably childish, for, well, I am. _

_His hand reaches to the ground and picks up the flowers that I dropped not moments ago his abrupt arrival. He continues to talk as he weaves the stalks and petals through my curls. "Just because this tree seems dead on the outside, Christine, does not mean it is so on the inside. Look."_

_He reaches for one of my hands and pulls it gently towards the branch. I try to pull away, not wanting to touch it. "Don't worry, Christine, trust me." He says, pulling my hand towards the bark again. And this time I allow him. He releases my hand suddenly and I look at him questionably. "Touch it."_

_I obey and press my palm against the dark charred wood and as I do something incredible happens. The black bark beneath my hand turns a healthy green and starts to spread a little way up the trunk. I jump back, surprised and look at my Papa who is chuckling. _

"_See, Christine? There is still life even in the bleakest of things, even when it seems everything's at a loss. You just have to know where to look-" he too touches the bark to produce more greenery, "-to find it." _

I awoke with heavy eyes and my chest heaving. My fingers grabbed a firm hold onto the silk sheets and wrapped them tightly around my small figure.

This was not the first time I had dreamt of my Father, but it _was_ the first time in years. I felt a slight stab of selfishness as I wondered whether or not I was keeping the memory of him alive in my dreams as a strange and almost pitiful excuse for comfort.

I was never the one to believe in hidden meanings and cryptic messages within dreams, however as I lay with my mind swimming I thought about what my dream could have meant.

Although, whatever thought process I had diverged myself in was interrupted suddenly by a brisk tap at the door. Time, obviously, had had the upper hand in this situation and had slipped my attention. Sighing, I reluctantly pushed myself up onto my elbows in my still subdued daze and yawned.

"Christine, are you ready?" His voice sounded through the wooden frame.

I widened my sleep driven eyes at the embarrassing situation of myself still lying in bed when I should be ready. I frantically reached up with one hand to see if my hair was still sitting in a presentable way. Not satisfied with the results, I hurried over to the vanity and bent down, my ringlets falling over my shoulders. I released a silent gasp as I saw dark circles surrounding my eyes. I huffed, deciding that my appearance should not really matter since no one would be seeing me and grabbed the hairbrush off the surface of the vanity. Remembering that Erik was still at the door I hastily tried to tame my curls and knots with, annoyingly, no success. Sighing and giving up on that horrendous task I then went about smoothing my dress skirts.

"Christine?" Another tap at the door. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes!" I replied, fixing the last of the creases. "I will be out in a minute."

I could hear Erik murmuring under his breath through the door. I resisted the urge to smirk at that he was not very quiet when it came to these little things. With one last look in the mirror I strolled over to the door and opened it. I saw Erik leaning up against the adjacent wall with his head hung and unrecognisable words still being released from under his breath.

"I'm ready." I said, in the midst of his mutterings.

He nodded and said, "Come." Which then followed him walking off immediately leaving me to scamper quickly behind him so that I could keep up.

There was irrevocably clear that Erik was in a curious mood, yet I was in a far curiouser mood to let him damper my spirits. So I happily trailed behind him and followed him into another gloomy tunnel that only Erik knew the way through. I was beginning to wonder just how many underground routes there were. I unconsciously clutched onto Erik's hand, as I had done yesterday. I did not want to stray away and become lost so my grip on Erik's gloved hand tightened. I felt his entire arm tense under the influence of my touch as if my hand was aflame. Memories of him guiding me down here for the first time flooded my mind and a ghost of a familiar smile graced my face once more.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I had not noticed Erik's precipitous halt which resulted in me bumping into him. I whispered a quick apology and cast a look up at him. I was utterly intrigued at how his eyes, though no light was shining on them, glinted in the darkness like two black diamonds.

I quickly turned away from him as he moved to the end of the passageway. I frowned thinking it was just a dead-end … How wrong I was.

Erik had brushed his fingers along the cold stone creating patterns along the rough surface. I stepped a little closer, still wary that I was in complete darkness and I was liable to trip up as I had done many times in the past. Suddenly, he stepped back and ushered me towards him with a flick of hid finger. I obeyed and came to stand next to him. I watched with fascination as he pushed his hand up against one piece of stone and pressed against it. I jumped back slightly as the wall miraculously slid open.

I felt his hand light touch the small of my back as a signal for me to enter. Not wanting to waste any more time in these dingy halls I decided to edge through the small opening and into...

"Now you know what my view is from up here." Said Erik.

"This is your box?" I asked, feeling very uncomfortable and oddly chilled standing in the Opera Ghost's box next to the Opera Ghost himself. I looked back to where we had entered from and saw no trace of the slit in the wall.

"Keep to the shadows behind the curtain. I don't want to risk you being seen."

I silently walked back until I was concealed from the light. "Did I ever say thank you? For _this_, I mean." I blurted out, a little too loud for both our likings.

Erik shot me a silent glare, those fearsome eyes penetrating mine, but said nothing. I sighed and rubbed my hand against the soft fabric of the curtain. I opened my mouth to speak but Erik cut me off.

"Don't thank me yet." He said.

"Why?" I replied after a minute of strained silence hanging in the air.

He raised one finger gracefully to his mouth and then pointed to the stage, redirecting my gaze as he did so. I stared down and saw instantly what he was speaking of. La Carlotta had strutted onto the wooden stage, her footwear making one dreadful clunk after the other.

I recognised Monsieur Gautier, the stage director, along with a few members of the chorus bustling their way through the monstrous props and scenery trying to get in their positions. Although I truly wished to be on stage with them at that moment I decided against moving closer and tried to be content with what Erik was willing to provide for me.

The music for Violetta's aria, Ah Forse Lui, begun and both Erik and I braced our selves for the terrible shrieks that would come forth from Carlotta's mouth. I saw Erik slowly raise his hands to ears with a look of complete grief plastered upon his unmasked side as the soprano started to sing.

_'There is still life even in the bleakest of things, even when it seems everything's at a loss.' _My Father's words floated around my head and I frowned at their unexpected arriving. I turned to look at Erik as I ran those words over and over again. I must have stood there for at least a quarter of the beautiful aria, now ruined by that noise coming from below, staring at Erik.

All of a sudden, without thinking, I smiled sympathetically at his pose and reached over to where he stood a few feet back behind the curtain. My fingers wrapped around his. "Thank you." I whispered squeezing his hand lightly.

My hand bravely remained in his for what seemed like an age to me before I finally dropped it and turned my attention back to the rehearsals below. We then proceeded to comment on the 'invigorating' performance below us and what dire improvements should be made immediately. Erik spoke of awful things that he would do to the managers and even a few fellow cast members if their acts were not straightened out soon. I prayed that he was just being hypothetical.

I was about to make a reply to this when something, or rather someone caught my eye. With the flash of blonde hair and a brisk frequent hop in their step, they made their way down the aisle of the auditorium. I gasped and reeled forward, needing to clasp the top of the nearest chair for support. I would have recognised him anywhere.

"Ah," said Monsieur Gautier and in doing so thankfully ended the rehearsal of the aria. "Monsieur de Chagny, what a pleasant surprise!"

o0o

**Yes that's right, look who's there! Anyway, as always, thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter:) Oh and I'm starting to look for a beta for this story after the next chapter, so if anyone's interested be sure to let me know!**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything to do with The Phantom Of The Opera...**

Chapter 6

o0o

Any brief hope and promise that may have been embedded within my approaching shout vanished as a strong hand clamped itself over my mouth. I struggled against Erik's hold, though I should have known better than to try to scream, until his arm wrapped around my stomach pressing me against him. I squirmed as he began slowly to drag me further and further into the shielding darkness of box five. His breath felt thick and rapid against my skin.

"Christine, don't do this." He commanded sharply, yet with a strange trace of despair present. "Stop moving!"

I clawed frantically at his arms trying to pry his stiff hold on me away. I squirmed, madly swerving left to right in his arms, trying desperately to break loose and see Raoul once more. Would he have denied me the pleasure of seeking my former fiancé's company one last time? Oh course he would, but I was determined not to take no for an answer.

After a few uncomfortable moments of struggling I finally came to my senses and ceased my movements, becoming as solid as stone, while straining to hear the conversation below. I relaxed the muscles I had not known to be tensing and slowly exhaled the excess air out onto Erik's palm. Noticing my change, but still keeping his palm plastered over my mouth to ensure my silence, he turned me around to face him. His midnight black cloak acted as another shield of darkness around us and even if we were vaguely in view before we would not be now. I frowned, being to become frustrated, and cold, at my mouth's lack of freedom.

"This was a horrible idea, Christine. We could have been seen. _You _could have been seen." He hissed under his breath. "I was a fool, an utter fool to not comprehend the possibility of de Chagny coming here at this time!" Even in the darkness I could see something unholy flash past Erik's eyes. "But oh no," his voice took on a mocking tone – one that I had grown to hate, "I was too busy being vigilant to your every whim, too busy wishing to make you happy, too busy trying to..."

His voice trailed off into a hushed whisper and, since I could not speak, I tried to communicate with him through my eyes. I begged for him to release me, to _listen_ to me.

"Christine?" He asked, his chords reduced to sounding like those belonging to a child. The sudden transformation was both quite shocking and disturbing at the same time. "Christine?" He asked again. "Is that why you wanted to come up here? Because you knew that _he_ would be here? Oh, it _pains_ me to think that you would use me in such a way!" He towered over me, making me tremble with dreaded anticipation. "Do you have any idea how all this," he turned his head towards the stage and then back to me, "and how all that you do affects me? I am willing to bet that the thought has not even passed your mind."

Erik jerked his hand away from my mouth, allowing the oxygen to naturally flow through my airways again. I released a long sigh at the troublesome man standing in front of me. I sometimes forgot all that he must go through for the benefit of my happiness and I wondered why I didn't pay him the right consideration for his actions. I steadied myself, pressing my back and palms flat-out against the box walls just for the sake of feeling something supported, only then to have my wrist suddenly snatched at.

"Come, we are leaving." He said.

I stared at him, affronted by his command. "No." I protested sharply, while shifting all of my weight backwards in an attempt to make his stop. "I do not wish to leave!" I exclaimed, trying to look over the edge to see if I could see Raoul one last time.

My voice may have carried passed the box confinements slightly as Erik had covered my mouth once more. "Be silent!" He hissed.

Without a second warning he then took the liberty of dragging me through the passageway entrance in which we had come through. My feet stumbled clumsily over the material of my dress as we passed the threshold causing me to almost fall flat on my face. Erik's hand removed itself from my mouth in time to envelope itself around my arm, thus saving me the fall.

"Watch where you are going!" He said, releasing me momentarily to close the passage behind him.

As soon as I had straightened myself back up my wrist was taken a hold of again and we soon began our descent back down below. Erik's grip was a little too tight for my liking and his step too hurried. Again, unverified mutterings escaped Erik's mouth so quietly that if I wasn't listening properly then I wouldn't have known he was doing it.

"Take me back Erik, please." I implored, my voice only just creeping louder than his. "Please Erik. You promised."

"So did you!" He growled and I didn't need to ask twice to know what he meant by those words. I immediately fell into a perpetual silence. "You and I are going to have a little talk when we get back." I could not lie if I were to say that I was not looking forward to that conversation...

Erik's intemperate anger had not calmed but only increased when we had finally arrived at his underground compartments. I longed to hide myself in the safety of my room and wait until his temper had soothed but I was obliged to linger and listen. He began to pace, as he so often did, which always made me more nervous than I already was. His hands were twitching behind him and every so often he would stop and look at me as if to say something but every time he would abandon that thought and continue to pace. I wasn't sure whether I should remain standing or if I should sit, although before I could any sort of decision Erik began to speak.

"If you as so much as look at de Chagny next time then … no! No!" He stopped pacing to glare at me. "No, there will not be a next time."

"What are you saying?" I asked timidly, sure of his meaning but against my better judgement I wanted to hear the words from his own lips.

"You will no longer be allowed to go anywhere where you could be a liability for the eyes of de Chagny. I will not permit it. You will remain here with me and only me." He strode confidently up to my cowering figure. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly." I answered monotonously and almost on impulse, but when his eyes began to roam my face for any lapse of truth I found myself incapable of stopping myself from continuing, "How do you expect me to love you when you are so possessive over everything I do? Have you ever considered how _I _must feel when you use me as a way to release your frustration and anger? If you haven't then I must tell you that it is not pleasant."

I must have been taunting him to step off an invisible cliff in his mind for his eyes only continued to turn more cloudy with aggression. "I always consider how you feel, I thought we were clear on that." His sneer was a little too forward than usual. "Nevertheless, you still have not answered my question from earlier. If you have forgotten then I will remind you." His eyes bore into mine like two sharp daggers. "I asked you whether or not you understood what I must go through, and now I ask again, do you understand Christine?"

I fumbled with the folds of my dress nervously. "Yes." I whispered and it was the truth.

He scoffed. "And the only emotion you seem to derive from that is pity. _Oh, poor Erik_," he crudely imitated, "_oh, my poor deluded Erik_."

I stared bitterly at him and watched with disgust as he smirked and returned to his brooding stance abode on his piano stool. He absently mindedly ran his fingers over the keys, not producing any sound from them but perhaps just basking in the mere touch of them. "Why," he asked, his voice a whisper to what it was just one minute ago, "why do you not love me as I love you?"

I sighed and touched my chest feeling where my cross was under the many layers of clothing before begrudgingly moving my feet towards the direction of the pianoforte. My heart honestly went out to him seeing him so morbidly heartbroken with his head hung long and his desire to play gone. I thought a couple of times about placing my hand on top of his shoulder before deciding against it.

"Why?" He whispered again, almost torturing himself with the aching silence.

"I cannot love you until I am no longer in love with Raoul." I saw his fingers flex at the mention of his name, but nothing more. "You cannot force love, Erik, it develops with time."

"Time." He mused seemingly to himself. "I've had too much of it." He dropped his hands to his knees and turned his head slightly towards me. "Do you think, if I was not born with this face, then you would have loved me?"

"Do you genuinely think that I still care about what your face looks like? I have told you on more than one occasion that it does not frighten me any more. Why can you not except that?"

A ghost of a smile played at his mouth. "One who has lived all their life being rejected and hated cannot be expected to forgive and forget so easily." He rested his fingers onto the keys and began to play an unnamed sonata filled with melancholy that seemed to reflect the pain within. "I do not suppose you will ever understand, or even if you _want_ to understand."

"I want to understand," I gently enfolded his hands in mine, forcing him to stop composing and listen, "if you'll let me."

Erik made no attempt at a reply but simply pulled his hands from mine and continued creating the wondrously sad piece that echoed his heart in every note. I stepped back, not sure how to proceed from here. I turned swiftly on my heel to go into my room when Erik stopped me.

"I love you, Christine."

I closed my eyes at his declaration, tears threatening to break loose, knowing that I could not return those words. Deciding I could not bare to stay in Erik's presence any longer I rushed into my room, closing the door as gently as I could behind me just in time for my crying to start. I hastily brushed the liquid away from my cheeks and went to sit at my vanity.

There, I grabbed my engraved hairbrush and mechanically tugged at my curls. I needed something meaningless to do so that I could free my mind to think more clearly. I was wondering whether or not I should have gone back to Erik, after all, it was awfully shameful of me to walk off like that. And no matter how hard I tried, I could not get rid my head of those haunting, pleading eyes.

It was then and there that I firmly knew I could not leave him. He had to make sacrifices for my happiness and so, in return, I would make sacrifices for his. These past few months now seemed so minuscule and looking back I found myself acting extremely childish. I suppose, in an ironic way, it was like a deadly game of tag and I was always running awaiting the claiming touch of pursuer. But I had run far and for long enough. It was time to stop running and confront my destiny face to face.

I placed my hairbrush back onto my vanity and then scrambled around my room to try to find some paper and ink. I looked in the drawers in the vanity and under the bed before I laid my eyes upon a small black box situated on top of my wardrobe. Grabbing the chair that I was just sitting on, I dragged it noisily towards the wardrobe before stepping onto it and reaching for the box. Granted I nearly lost my balance, but I had achieved my goal. I opened the lid slightly to find what I was looking for and so I carefully stepped off the chair and brought it back to my vanity.

After clearing room for the box, I sat down and opened the lid. The smell of dust met me briefly before I picked up the sheets of paper, quill and ink bottle and began to write. This was the easiest way.

_My dearest Raoul, _

Once those words would have been a casual greeting to my former fiancé, but now they were just a sweet echo in the corner of my mind.

_Well, where should I start? I imagine a simple thank you would not be sufficient enough to begin to describe the gratitude I have towards you. These past few months, you have been loving and a confidant in my hours of need, and I thank you for that. _

_Know that my time with you has brought me nothing but utter happiness, though now I can't help but wish that you had never walked into my dressing room that night. It was on that night that everything changed, for the better or worse you decide, but I never meant for you to be mixed up in all this. Never. _

_Perhaps, along the way, we acted rather foolishly and recklessly. Although, who could blame us? People do strange things when they are in love. And even though we must move on, you will always have a place in my heart. _

When they are in love...

_We are not those two people any more, Raoul, and we must accept that._

_And it is because of this that I must ask you to detach yourself of any feelings for me. I know it will be hard, but I must do it too, and you deserve better, Raoul, so much better. Please do this one last request for me and then you do not have to do anything for me again. I have been trouble for you from the very beginning Raoul. Things have only gone from good to worse since you entered my life and, though it pains me to say this, you must forget me. I ask you to find someone who will love you without any complications. _

Knowing of my asking of Mama Valerius to keep silent about my new engagement, I remembered not to include it in this letter.

_I cannot leave _him_. I know this now. Do not ask the questions that you do not wish to know the answers to. _

_And Raoul, do not worry about for my sake, I am completely aware of what I am asking of you. _

_Yours cordially, Christine Daaé_

I placed the quill down, in defeat, while biting my lip to stop my irritating tears from falling again. I read and re-read my words until I was satisfied, well, as satisfied as I could have been, before slipping it into an envelope and leaving the room.

I soon found Erik in the same place where I left him last, at the piano, his hands bent over the keys in a frenzy. His playing continued and never faltered as I neared him, though whether or not he knew if I was there I did not know. Carefully, while watching my footing since the floor was now strewn with his music, I made my way slowly towards him. I stopped directly beside him and held out the note in my trembling hand.

"What's this?" His voice nearly made me flinch because of the sharp deep underlining of his tone, it was so different from the last time we had spoken! And this fact alone never failed to send a chill to my very core.

"It's a note," I gripped the little piece of paper tighter in an attempt to calm my nerves, "to Raoul."

It was then that he ceased his fingers and looked at me, or rather the note. I edged my hand further towards him to try to tell him to take the piece of paper, but he only continued to eye it as if his stare alone would make it catch aflame.

Before I knew what was happening, he had snatched the note from my fingertips and ended up on the other side of the room with it. He held it up, looking at it from all corners, as if he had never seen anything like it before. His eyes flashed between me and it so fast that I barely saw any change.

"A _love_ note?" He spoke bitterly.

I sighed deeply and began to inch towards him cautiously. "No, Erik," I spoke slowly like one would to a wild animal. "Read it for yourself if you do not believe me."

"Yes, quite." He narrowed his eyes. "You would want me to read it, wouldn't you? You would want me to endure more pain while reading your petty words, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you!" He growled.

"Erik, if you would just let me explain-"

"No!" He snapped making me freeze to the stop.

"Read it and find out for yourself." I repeated quietly as I turned to face the piano, my arms wrapped protectively around myself.

I closed my eyes and waited. Finally I then heard the rustling of the letter being opened held. Letting out a sigh of relief, I turned back to Erik, a small smile on my lips.

"Do you … do you mean what you say here? That … that you will not leave?" He asked, a frown on the visible side of his face.

"Yes." I whispered, squeezing my arms reassuringly.

I prayed that God would give me the strength to see this through to the end and to give Erik what he truly deserved.

o0o

Later that night, after dwelling in the library, my room and the sitting room, all of which strangely were bereft of Erik's company, I became rather hungry. My stomach was moaning to be fed and I was more than content to obey its calls. I imagined it was around seven o'clock and so it was time for dinner. A couple of days ago I was pleased to see that Erik had placed more food in the shelves and cupboards and so I was happy to know that I could have more than a few pieces of fruit. I was barely out of my room when the sweet aroma from within the kitchen was already calling to me.

And as I expected, there sitting with wondrous steam arising from its contents was a bowl of fragment soup. I walked to the table and absent-mindedly rested the points of my fingertips on the dark wood while staring at the bowl. My eyes stayed on the food for a moment longer before looking across to the opposite side of the table and seeing, yet again, that the table was only set for one. I sighed wearily and pondered on why Erik never chose to eat with me.

I peered into the bowl once more and saw that Erik had filled it almost to the top. And so, with a smile fully on my lips, I fetched another bowl and spoon from the cupboard and set it out next to mine. I then proceeded to pour half of my soup into the other bowl, spilling a few minor drops in doing so. I then put the bowl and spoon at the other end of the table and wandered around to find Erik.

"Erik, could you come here please?" I asked to the empty apartment.

I walked down the hallway and looked around but I still had no luck on the whereabouts of him. I placed my hands on my hips and walked into the sitting room to continue my search. He wasn't in any of his usual places which really made me wonder where he could be.

"Erik, where are you?" I asked, now slightly annoyed for the soup was surely getting cold as the seconds frittered by.

No reply came and so I turned to head back to the kitchen but nearly jumped out of my skin when I found that Erik was standing not two feet behind me.

"You called, mademoiselle." He said calmly, hands folded behind his back.

My chest heaved and I glared at him, shaking my head. "Do not do that! You gave me a fright!"

"My apologies. Now, will you tell me why you requested me?"

It wasn't long before all my heightened senses from my scare settled down and I could concentrate on the task ahead. "I wish for you to dine with me."

"Ah." He said, head hung low. "I am afraid that I must decline."

"Why?" I whined softly. "I set out another place for you. Please, Erik? It would … make me happy."

With his eyes still to the rug, he replied, "Very well." He then trudged his way with heavy footsteps following me to the kitchen.

I stood in front of my chair, wearing the same smile on my face that I bore a few minutes ago. Gesturing for him to sit, he did so, and then so did I. I didn't hesitate to dig into the delightful soup which danced my taste buds. Erik, much to my surprise, was quite the cook. Every so often, I would glance up from my bowl to see Erik stiffly seated in his chair with one hand fisted nest to the spoon as if he were afraid it would bite.

Reluctantly resting my spoon down, I looked up at Erik. "Please eat."

"This is," he begun, his eyes darting around the room wildly, "your dinner. Not mine. I made it for you. I would not dare to intrude on your meal."

"Please?"

After a minute I sighed and turned to my bowl, about to give up on the subject. Yet, as I dipped my spoon into the liquid I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Erik mirroring my movements and eating. I marvelled at the sight of him eating and took this opportunity to watch him. It immediately came to my attention that he must not be able to eat properly with the mask getting in the way of his mouth. But I dared not get into another heated discussion about his mask, not while I was trying to have a civilised moment with him.

Returning to the soup, I then tried to strike up a conversation. "Erik?"

"Hmm?" He said between a slightly mechanical feeding movement.

"When will you ..." I sighed and allowed my head to droop considerably. "When will you deliver that … that letter?"

"Tomorrow." He replied curtly.

I nodded sadly and we continued to eat in silence, apart from an occasional irritated grunt that escaped Erik's mouth.

Ten minutes had passed before Erik started to cough. I wasn't quite sure as to why what was about to happen happened back then, but it nearly scared me half to death just witnessing it. The cough started off lightly coming from the back of his throat. I looked up worriedly at him a few times before he passed it off as a regular annoyance. I thought nothing of it and began to clear up my bowl when the cough suddenly started to become considerably worse, erupting deep within his chest. It sounded hoarse, heavy and horrible and it wasn't long afterwards that Erik collapsed off the chair onto all fours.

Without thinking, I dropped the bowl where I stood, not caring that it smashed loudly against the cold stone floor. I ran to his side, rubbing my hand along his back to try to ease the pain out of him. Although my attempts were good in heart, they did not work. His coughing only increased and I stumbled away from him when he started gag. His back arched, his spine clearly visible through his clothing, and he gagged once again.

I watched wide-eyed as he began to vomit violently, the putrid contents of his stomach spewing out in front of him. I wanted to go to him and comfort him, but whenever I tried to get any closer I found myself becoming overpowered by the vile stench to a point where I thought that _I_ was going to follow the same example as Erik. I turned away in disgust both at the sight in front of me and at myself. I was a coward for not being able to help him!

His heaving eventually slowed and my eyes looked back at Erik, one hand clasped over my mouth and nose. He was shuddering and trying to rise with what seemed like great difficulty. He used the side of the table as some support but I could see his knees buckling and arms shaking terribly. I knew he would fall but before he could I quickly positioned myself under his left arm and helped support his weight.

"Erik's joints are sore." He whispered though I tried to keep him from talking and risking another episode.

He leaned heavily on me as I half carried him through to the living room, hurriedly deciding that resting him in his 'bed' was not the best place for him. I carefully held onto him as he placed himself down on the settee. I asked him if he had a bucket anywhere to which he weakly pointed towards a small door on the opposing wall. I nodded, but went to collect some cushions and blankets from my room before coming back to retrieve the bucket. I hoped that he would not need to use it, but it just a precaution.

I pushed Erik's body up slightly so that I could place the cushions I had brought behind him. I then wrapped him up in one of my silk blankets which Erik strongly protested against feebly saying that he did not want to spoil the lovely material for me. I ignored this and handed him the bucket.

A few hours later and Erik was resting soundly on the settee, his mask out-of-place, and the bucket was almost spilling out its containments. I kneeled on the floor next to him, gently holding his hand, all too aware of the smell still fuming from within the bucket a few feet away.

"Are you alright now, Erik?"

"Yes." He murmured.

"What on Earth caused this?"

He sighed, clutching at his throat which must have been burning. "It happens every few months or so, it's nothing to worry about."

I sat up, squeezing his limp hand tightly in mine. "It's nothing to be worried about?" I exclaimed. "Erik, you said yourself that this happens to you often, so how can you sit there and expect me not to be worried?"

"Oh, please do not worry over me." Even though this illness had nearly drained all the energy out of him, I was quite sure that he was enjoying the fact that I _was _worrying over him. "I am quite used to it. I normally know what causes it to happen so you need not fret over that."

"But what does cause it?"

"Lack of sleep but mainly certain foods are-" Another cough sounded from deep within his chest and I bent over him trying to quiet him with my touch.

"Hush, hush. Try not to talk." I stroked his hand briefly. "Would you like me to sing to you?"

He nodded while closing his eyes. I inhaled as deep as I could, attempting to avoid the smell of sick, and began to sing a quiet lullaby that my Father used to sing to me. Even though I was at rest watching Erik slip into a peaceful slumber, my mind couldn't help but replay what he had said. He spoke of certain foods being the cause and I suddenly felt a rush of ignited guilt come over me. I was the one who made him dine and eat with me and it was the soup which caused this to happen. Oh, it was all my fault! I did this to him!

"I'm sorry." I mumbled as the lullaby ended.

o0o

**The episode that Erik suffered from in this chapter is part of an illness called Cyclical Vomiting Syndrome. It can develop at a very young age and stay with that person in adulthood. It can cause a person to vomit up to 12 times an hour for a few hours on end.**

**Review? Any constructive criticism is welcome! **


	7. Chapter 7

**So sorry for not updating sooner! I've had a lot of revising to do and I've lately been under the weather a bit so those are my excuses ... Anyway, thank you to everyone who has added this story to their favourites or who's following/ reviewed so far, it's much appreciated:) Oh and an extra big thank you to partypenguina3 who was my beta for this chapter! Thanks! Review anyone?**

Chapter 7

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The next day I urged Erik greatly to stay put on the settee until he was fully rested and recovered, although being the persistent man he was, he was up and about before I could get a stern word in against it. I surveyed him like a hawk, watching for any abnormalities in his stance or mood - well, any more than the usual - that would indicate a lapse in his health. Thankfully there were no signs and I could ease myself out from my worried state. However, there was still one matter whose shadow continued to loom over me: the business of delivering the letter.

I requested for Erik not to tell me when he was planning on delivering that painful letter and he respectively accepted. To make sure that I did not worry myself silly over this, he made the direct point of leaving his home a couple of times so I would not know when he was going to deliver it. There was, however, one flaw in his plan and that was the fact that every time he ventured upstairs I _did_ wonder if he had the letter or not. I both wanted and didn't want to know exactly when he was planning of ridding me of the blasted note ... I wasn't sure whether I even wanted to know _how_ he was going to deliver it! Surely he wouldn't simply hand it over to Raoul face to face - that idea was really quite absurd and a little unrealistic but it still sent a chill down my spine to even think of Erik and Raoul in the same room together again.

How would Raoul react when he read its contents? Not well, I predicted, but I prayed that he would have the sense to not make the dangerous road down here and confront his rival. I had made my choice and I had to learn to accept it, with every little consequence that came with it.

"I will not be long." He said for the fourth time today. "Is there anything you need before I leave, my dear?" His voice came from behind me, though I think I was not completely listening. This statement was spoken four times too many and now I did not care to hear it any longer.

My response, I think, was that of an unintelligible grunt or a few slurred words after which I started to wander around the room with a vacant expression upon my face. I wrapped my arms around myself securely as I continued my pointless journey.

Erik, obviously concerned about my strange state, strode straight up in front of me so that I was forced to look at him. I sighed and reluctantly gazed up at him. His illness had left his skin the same colour as his opposing mask, the colour of a cadaver.

"Are you alright, Christine?" He asked.

The truth was that I was not alright. In fact, I was slowly sinking into a deep dark hole, one that was bereft of light and Raoul. I know it sounded quite ridiculous and rather melodramatic, but one cannot let go of someone dear so quickly and calmly. Although, when I met Erik's eyes I knew that I had to be brave, not only for myself but for Erik as well. I could and would not revert back to my once helpless self who solely depended on others to survive. No, I would not turn back into that girl.

Erik stared intently down at me scanning my face for any signs of the distress or sadness which I was having a hard time hiding. "I'll be fine." I eventually replied with.

He sighed, his warm breath teasing on my skin. "Very well. If the candles happen to burn out and I have not returned I trust you to light them again." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Erik's hands twitch slightly towards me as if he meant to touch me, hold me, but this idea was out of his mind as quick as if had entered for he placed his hands behind his back. When he spoke again his tone was soft, as soft as it once was when he spoke to me of music or when he praised me during our lessons. "It seems unusual to leave you here by yourself..."

His words struck me as strange because he had never uttered them at all during the course of the day. I stared up at him and saw that it appeared as if he wanted to say more but no more words came forth from his mouth. And with one last glance he was gone.

The house, in the very strangest sense of the word, seemed empty now without the sound of notes or the rustling of papers or...

I was alone again and yet I could not find that calling need to run, to be free. Within the few short weeks that I had been down here that need was always present, however raging or minor it had been. Yet I had noticed that it was beginning to fade, like a healing insignificant scar, to the point where it was nearly utterly out of my system. I neither possessed the desire nor the energy to even think about escaping now, for my mind was now set on its decision and once I had firmly decided on something then there was no going back.

I walked over to the magnificent pianoforte and trailed my fingertips along the keys of black and white. I thought that by creating a sound from these ivory rectangles it would disturb the eerie quiet-like atmosphere and so I quickly removed my hands and stepped back. I glanced towards the candlesticks upon the piano lid and saw that the wax was gradually falling down the sides of the small candles. I still had a few hours until they would need changing. But I needed something to occupy my time now otherwise I didn't know what I would end up doing. Although, it was really only the matter of training my mind not to think about Raoul, and that task was proving to be exceedingly difficult at this time. This did not stand in my way of trying, though.

Deciding that there was not much in the way of entertainment, I ventured over to the corner of the room behind the piano and knelt down. From beneath my dress I brought forth my cross and held it tight within my hands. It was bizarre to think about praying in Erik's home for I had never prayed anywhere else but in the Opera House chapel or at my Father's grave. I was not even sure whether Erik belonged to a religion at all and this thought made me more concerned for his soul than ever. Although, I tried to not let that cause me any more anxiety right now and so I held my cross tighter to help me concentrate on praying.

I prayed to Father for guidance and strength, though, when I did this in the past that guidance and strength had always came in the form of an angel, my angel. But that angel was no more. That angel was nothing but a lie. And so I prayed to the heavens begging whoever was listening to come and aid me in finding that wanted strength within myself. I knew it was in there ... somewhere.

This suddenly had me thinking about what Father would think of all this, were he alive. Would he have welcomed Erik with open arms … or shunned him like the rest of humanity? Would this life be the life that he would have wanted for me? Would he be happy for me? I had so many questions, most of which I knew I would never have an answer to.

I can't quite remember what else I was praying for or about, but I do remember what occurred during this time.

I was deep in thought and I distinctly recall not having opened my eyes for at least eight minutes or so when the darkness had started to creep up on me. I, oblivious, was slowly being consumed and swallowed by the neighbouring shadows of my mind, and it was through the act of my praying that these shadows had been unlocked. I frowned in my state and opened my mouth to allow more air into my constricted feeling lungs. My breathing caught and I collapsed onto my side, refusing to open my eyes in fear of letting loose these thoughts. I backed up against the wall next to me and huddled into the corner like a child nestling into the crook of its mother's neck. It was only later that I realised that these 'shadows' were my conscience's way of making me fully aware of everything I had done and sacrificed in the last month or so. The unnecessary weight of it all lay on my tired shoulders as if I was the only support for the crumbling remains of a building.

It was too much to handle in one sitting and so I curled up even smaller into the wall and wrapped my arms around my head, wishing to be left alone in peace. I felt an uncontrollable urge to cry, to release my anxiety through the form of those familiar salty drops. Wanting nothing more to be rid of this dreadful bordering depressed feeling, I obeyed this urge. And suddenly the prospect of sinking back into my former self did not seem like such a bad idea...

It was around three hours later when Erik returned, stepping lightly and humming rather strangely. I did not think to ask why he was so long but I did notice this almost happy exterior about him even though my head was still drooped in the confinements of my arms smothered with tears.

"Christine?" He asked. I did not want to look up but I listened for any movements and heard that he had stopped in the middle of the room. "Oh, the candles have burned all the way down! Christine," he sighed heavily with disappointment, "why have you not fetched more candles?" When I did not reply he asked again, "Christine?"

I tried to stay as silent as possible, hoping he would leave me to drown the remainder of my sorrows how I pleased, but I should have known better. He sought me out a few heartbeats later, probably by having heard my heavy breathing. His footsteps neared my quivering figure but then retreated and I couldn't help but wonder why but my curiosity faded when I felt one soft glow warm the skin on my arms.

"Christine." He whispered, trying to coax me out of my protective shell with his voice. "What happened?"

I took one final deep breath before slowly raising my head and opening my eyes to meet the single flame and the steel gaze mask. By the widening of his eyes I could tell that he saw nothing but a sobbing little girl, curls a tangle, eyes red and pulsing, who was complete with a tear stained face. I suddenly then had a recollection of this exact situation happening when I was seven years old; I was weeping dreadfully inside the chapel walls when a voice, a heavenly voice, spoke to me, comforted me. It was on that night that I first met my angel … No, not angel, he was a man...

A celestial being may have quenched my appetite for solace when I was seven, but now, nearly eleven years later, this was no longer acceptable. This charade may have pulled a wide eye over the foolish child that I was, but certainly not over a girl on the verge of becoming a bright, sophisticated woman. I needed stability.

"Nothing." I said, my voice coming out hoarse and small. I did not attempt to dry my eyes or fix my hair though, strands of which were now becoming stuck to my face due to the wetness of my tears.

My lip, still quivering, pressed into a thin line as Erik cautiously reached forward towards my face as if to brush away my stray wisps but never did. His fingers hovered close to my skin neither moving nor unmoving and I wondered how long they would remain in the air like this. I watched with throbbing eyes as the tips of his fingers curled inwards and then retracted back to his side. It appeared that he never wished to involve himself when I was like this.

Erik placed the candle holder down while not altering his perfectly still kneeling position, the flame flickering slightly at the impact. "Are you..."

"Has the l-letter been taken c-care of?" I interrupted, now irritated that my stutter had made its reappearance.

"Yes." My hope of Raoul not being the topic of our next conversation vanished as I saw the cruel glint reflected in Erik's black eyes. "Now that the boy is out of the way for good, we can..."

"M-must you speak of him like that?" I whispered, dropping my gaze to the orange candle light.

"Why should I refer to him as anything else?" He sneered vilely. "He nearly snatched away my one promise of love, my inspiration, my _life_." His icy fingers coiled underneath my chin, making me jerk at the sudden contact, and quite harshly pulled my head upwards to meet his burning eyes. "I have _nothing _to thank him for."

He relieved me of his grip on my jaw quickly and I huddled back into the corner. There was a pregnant silence that echoed through the air for a while before I summoned the courage to continue this conversation knowing all too well that it would not end smoothly. "Y-you do have one thing to thank him for."

My voice entered the room as quietly as a mouse and my confirmation of Erik not having heard me came from when he uttered, "What?"

"I-I said, you do have one thing to thank him for."

He laughed menacingly, and I cowered against the wall as the sound vibrated off the corners of the room. Lord, how I loathed that laugh! "Oh, and what is that?"

Feeling my bravery linger I made a terribly gallant comment, "Without him, you would never have had the audacity to show yourself to me in my dressing room that night."

For the first time, I had rendered him speechless. "That … that is not true."

"Do not lie to me, Erik. Your façade hurt me mentally more than anything else in my short life. You, Sir, are no angel."

"No. No, I am not an angel," he mused. "But perhaps a fallen angel. You know, Lucifer was a fallen angel too and I suppose God did to me what he did to him. He cut my wings."

I released my breath in one rapid motion and dropped my eyes to the floor, I could not bear to look at him even in my anger. "A fallen angel indeed," I murmured.

He, too, sighed and drooped his head low. I could vaguely see his fingers fiddling with the cuffs on his shirt as he spoke to me, "Are we to continue like this until the end?"

Sensing the uneasy atmosphere I decided to toy with the bottom of my dress, thumbing the finishing white lace. "I-I don't know what you mean."

"Christine." With that one word his soft tone had disappeared and he once again regained his cold demeanour. "Look at me." I did. "You know perfectly well what I mean."

Yes, I knew what he meant. Throughout all our 'eternally bound' time together we had resisted one and other; he, not wanting to jeopardise losing what was his by going too far over the line, and I, not feeling as if I could ever fully trust him again. Whatever our differences, we always ended up back to where we started. Whenever our relationship, frail and insubstantial as it was, had progressed something along the way had always corrupted it and sent us back to the beginning again. This exact moment was another one of those corrupt causes.

"Let me be, please." It was all I could say before tears started to form and stream down my cheeks again. I buried my face into my arms once more, thankful that Erik could not see my distressed expression.

My body trembled as my sadness swept through me, I only hoped that he did not try to comfort me. I did not want to be comforted right now, there was a time and a place for such things as those and now was not one of them. Fortunately, I heard his footsteps disappearing into another room after a minute or so and as I listened my body relaxed slightly. My shakes had dissolved but I still would not raise my head. Instead I plunged my face further into my arms and knees, desperate to seek refuge from the strange silence and sinister glow.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there for but not too long after Erik's departure my ears began to open to the rapturous sound of a metallic tone. A music box. For many years I had heard the simple clockwork prelude that introduced the quaint tune that sounded whenever I was sad. This form of music had spoken to me through the walls of the Palais Garnier like a spectre whispering softly to its victim. Yet it was only a few months ago that I found out who the music's creator was.

I opened my eyes and saw before me a two foot wide music box playing that oh so familiar tune which had haunted me through the walls as a child. I looked around the room frowning for I had not heard Erik enter the room again or even set the music box down beside me. At first I was intrigued to set eyes on this mysterious object from my childhood at last and I slowly dried my eyes to see clearer. I bit my already sore bottom lip as I leaned forward with all the interest that beholds a small child when they see something new for the first time. I watched, eyes shining with memories, as the mechanisms inside went around and around at a hypnotic pace. Tempted to touch it, I reached my small fingers out towards the surface. But as I neared the wood, I froze and quickly retracted my hand.

I stared at the box, frightened and hurt. Erik had tried to calm me with this contraption as he had done in the past. It was basically a toy! A mere toy! Something to trick the weak minds of innocents. I could not believe that I had nearly fallen prey to these notes again … No! I would not be treated like a child any longer!

I nudged the object away with my foot, only managing to push it a few feet away from my body. My eyes then frantically scanned the shadowed corners for any signs of Erik. "I am not a child." I growled to the darkness. "I will not be treated like one. This," I gestured to the music box angrily, "won't work any more, Erik." I stood up using the wall to support myself. "Show yourself please." I stepped forward until I reached the centre of the room. There was still no sign that Erik was actually present but I continued anyway. "Show yourself. Erik? Erik!"

I was almost shouting at this point and for a brief moment I conjured up the image of him scolding me for damaging my vocal chords. Though, I didn't particularly care about that right now, my anger was too busy consuming me. "Erik!" I yelled again.

"Yes?" His voice came from in front of me. It worried me greatly that I could hear him but I could not see him. A small gasp exited my mouth as I realised that he was using his ghost-like skills against me. It was as if I was one of his victims! "What is it, my dear?" His voice echoed around the walls again, this time coming from behind me.

"You're scaring me." My voice came out quieter than before. "Stop it."

"How am I scaring you?" said the voice, which was in another corner of the room again.

"Erik..." I spun around on the spot. "Stop this! Show yourself!"

"Whatever it the matter?" This time his voice made me jump what seemed like ten feet off the ground for he was right beside me. He looked down at me as if he was concerned for my mental health.

"Erik." I did my best to give him my best scowl to which I only received a small smirk in return. "Why didn't you answer me when I called you?" I sighed when there was no reply. "I do wish that you would not throw your voice like that around me, and as for the lurking about in the corners..."

"I, lurking?" He chuckled. "I do not know what you mean."

I huffed. "Oh, you wretched man!"

It took all my self control not to let my wild side loose and hit him for scaring me. Instead, I gave him once last glare before I turned swiftly on my heel and headed in the opposite direction. Erik obviously objected to this choice because as soon as I had turned away from him he grabbed my wrist. I was unwillingly forced back to him.

"That was impolite." He said.

I couldn't believe my ears, the man was truly insufferable. I shook my head wildly whilst blinking away more tears and trying to break free of Erik's tight hand. "Let me go, Erik!"

On seeing my discomfort, Erik let go and backed away from me slightly. He held his hands weakly out towards me, reaching for me, but I stayed firmly where I was. "I am sorry." His voice was also weak and I saw him clutch both of his hands at his chest. It was almost like watching someone come out from some sort of trance. "I don't know why I do these things, please forgive me." He looked at me with a half crazed expression upon his face. "What do you want, Christine? Name it and you shall have it."

"What do I want?" The truth was I had no idea what I wanted. I silently wished for a lot of unattainable things, things I knew I would never receive. I never, though, wished for things that were, well, attainable. "I-"

"Come now, surely there must be something that you want. New clothes, perhaps? Jewels? No? What about your boy? "

"Stop it." I whimpered. Erik's mood swings always made me quiver like a fish out of water.

"You claim that your letter was your way of releasing yourself from him and yet I can see in your eyes that you still pine over him."

"Stop it." I repeated. I swear he was going to drive me into insanity if he did not cease his extreme antics.

"Why must you lie to me?"

"Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!" My knees gave way and I willingly dropped onto them, burying my face into my hands. "I cannot bear this torment any longer. You push me and you push me and it is never enough for you!" Under normal circumstances I would have spoken with warm moisture running from my eyes, but not this time. "You ask me to remain faithful, you ask me to forget, but how can I when you bring up the past in our every conversation? I told myself that I could stand living with you as your wife but over the last few days I..." I looked up at him. "I don't know whether I can do this any more."

A look of absolute dismay coursed through his thin features and he, too, dropped to his knees in front of me. He lightly, but firmly took a hold of my upper arms and lowered his masked face until he was looking at me desperately in the eye. If my frenzied trance did not add to the surrealism of this situation then the hazy lighting of that one candle did.

"Do not _dare _say that you will leave me; do _not_ even think it. You are strong, Christine, I know you are."

I scoffed. "You sound so sure."

A moment of silence passed. "I am."

Sighing, I slouched my posture and sunk lower to the floor. "I-I do not even know how to refer to you now. Angel … that word does not work ... nor does husband nor guardian." None of these three titles suited a man such as Erik, but this got me thinking into what title did suit him.

"More than anything right now I need to know that you will try to be more than just the Phantom, more than an immaterial terror. You have to be more than that. I need you to be real..."

Without another word from my part and before any could escape Erik's mouth I collapsed onto him, exhausted. My fingers snaked around his lapels and I felt his arms gingerly encircle around my waist. Erik, now in the form of a friend and comforter would be sufficient at this moment, but I knew it would not last. If there was to be any hope of a relationship between us, we both had to learn to let go of the past and force our differences aside. However, in order for that to happen we had to trust each other. And listen to me when I say that trust is a very complex thing indeed.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Now that all my exams are out of the way for a few months I have a lot more time to write! Yay! And a big thank you to Partypenguina3 who was the beta for this chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Phantom Of The Opera. Damn.**

Chapter 8

o0o

One, what I could only assume, month had passed. One lengthy month had passed with no progressions between Erik and me other than that we were frequently more civil towards each other. We seldom argued and Raoul was hardly ever brought up in our conversations. Though, there were a few irritating circumstances in which he was the engrossing subject of Erik's bitter ramblings and mutterings. These rants always included Raoul's death, always in different forms. Lasso, knife and gun were just a few words, of many, that were thrown around in the midst of Erik's plotting. Oh course I scolded him for such displeasing thoughts; especially now that he had agreed to try and forget the past. However, every time I did this he merely acted as innocent as a lamb, pretending that he had not said one ill word. Some things may have changed but his arrogance certainly wasn't one of them!

There was no repeat of Erik's vomiting episode and yet I was dreading the day when it would come again. I was also given the opportunity to go and visit Mamma Valerius, only once granted, but I was still grateful for this privilege. She was still in good health, though the same could not be said about little Simone's mother. Her health had deteriorated greatly since my last visit, so much that she was unable to work.

It was early April now which meant the blossom was in bloom and the chirps of baby birds could be heard from high up in the trees. I didn't know how much I missed the sweet sound of a bird's call in the evenings until it struck my ears once again. I distinctly recall closing my eyes and listening to it; I only reopened my eyes again when I heard Erik chuckling. Giving him by best improved scowl I then waltzed straight past him as if nothing had happened. However hard I tried to stay stern in my expressions while facing Erik, I could not help but allow a tiny smile to grace my face when I had turned my back.

On one peculiar night Erik was in a frightfully upbeat mood – and even though it shouldn't have, it scared me more when he was like this than any other time. It was so … strange. What added to this oddness was that he had not played nor even glanced at his piano all week. Instead, curiously, he had been busying himself with other minuscule chores most of which took place in or beyond the winding cobbled tunnels of his fortress. He did not permit me to go down any of them, in exception if I was in his company, and I dare not follow him. Theories were my only guide to what exactly he _was _doing and, come to think of it, some of them were completely absurd.

"Shall we resume our lessons, Christine?" He said, perky and eager.

"Pardon?" I said with a frown upon my brow as I peered past my embroidery embedded within my hands. I had taken to this pastime recently on account that I suddenly had a craving for it and, frankly, I just needed something to do. "Oh," having recognised the words Erik had just spoken, I placed my needlework down on the neighbouring table and smiled across at him, "yes, I would like that very much."

"Excellent." His eyes shone with anticipation. "I shall wait for you in the music room." And with that he rose and walked away.

After his departure I picked up my embroidery and attempted to thread one terribly fiddly section that I was finding impossible to finish. As I was doing so I allowed my mind to wander, thinking of what was to come in my next singing lesson. It thrilled me to be able to sing again for I had not done so in two odd weeks. I had neither the chance nor desire to sing in that time period but now that the opportunity was within my reach I was not going to hesitate about taking it.

"Ouch!" I gasped and peered down at my left thumb only to see that it was steadily producing a dark red substance from a tiny hole in the centre. I mumbled under my breath as I put my needlework to the side. Scolding myself for not paying full attention while holding a sharp object, I then proceeded to clean the small injury.

Sighing in annoyance, I got up and made my way to the music room for my awaited lesson. Erik was already in there resting on his piano stool, his shoulders hunched and his hand flying across his sheet music writing down unearthly creations in that distinctive sprawled penmanship of his. It was strange and slightly wondrous to witness the magnitude of passion that he poured into every ounce of music. Wishing not to disturb him -Lord knows what his temper would be like if I did!- I tiptoed to sit on the wooden chair directly behind Erik at the wall.

I watched silently from my spot, tilting my head and body to try to get a better view of his fingertips lightly pressing down on the white and black keys. I hadn't noticed I was leaning a little too far to the side for I had to frantically clutch at the seat of the chair before I could topple over with it. As a result of that the old wood gave out a slow stretched creak that made Erik stop what he was doing and spin around, quill still in hand . As soon as he saw me he grabbed his music, strode over to a nearby cabinet and placed the sheets neatly in there before facing me at his full height. Even without his cloak and gloves he looked menacing while still maintaining that ability to appear really quite elegant.

"I did not realise you were here, Christine." He made a gesture towards the piano. "Shall we begin?"

I nodded and went to stand next to the instrument as my eyes followed Erik. As soon as he sat down the lesson began.

What followed was what would have been expected. I sang a few scales, doing my best to project my voice loudly without damaging it. However, after about fifteen minutes and an apparently futile attempt at singing on my part, Erik made it clear to me that I was not in voice today. This put a damper on my spirits but did not stop me from continuing practising. If Erik had taught me anything it was that practise makes perfect. And so we continued, a rather displeased grimace on Erik's visible brow and an embarrassed blush on mine.

The final major chord had been played of my warm up and Erik took his hands off the keys to rest them in his lap. He then looked up at me with disappointment burning in those black eyes. I hated when I could not please him, in the old days and even now, it was as if a cold chill had swept over my heart.

I sighed, placing my hands on my hips. "I'm sorry. I know that I can sing much better than that. It-it's just that I have not sung in such a while and-"

"Do not apologise." He said as he massaged the bridge of his nose, half covered by the glaring mask. "It is because of this I should not have expected a lot from you today."

I hung my head low in shame. "If you do not wish to continue with the lesson then I would understand."

"Very well."

I stole a glance at him as he said this and I was hurt even more when I saw that he did not even look in my direction once. I found myself unconsciously stepping backwards, feeling unworthy. This was not a new emotion for me for I used to feel it regularly when I first started receiving singing lessons from the 'mysterious angel'. Yet it was strange that after all this time, after everything that I had learned, after the shocking truths that were uncovered, I was still able to feel unworthy in Erik's presence … I began to resent myself for that.

o0o

"Erik," I softly spoke as I rapped on the worn out wood of his bed chamber door. "You have been in there all afternoon. Please come out." I always worried greatly when he found it fit to lock himself in the confinements of his room and play out the remainder of the day in his dwelling solitude. "Erik?" I knocked a little louder this time and again there was no answer from within.

I sighed and was about to give up when my eyes dropped to the inviting door handle. Yes, I was warned to never enter without his permission but what harm could one little look do? My fingers timidly reached down to grab the handle and waited a few seconds before trying to turn it. To my surprise the door was unlocked and it opened with ease. There was no line of light that came pouring from the room and through the crack of the door. It was eerily painted in darkness.

I entered the room and called out to Erik, once again receiving no answer. I could only assume that he was not in here. As I went further into the room I saw that there was a small but blurry glow coming from the desk. I walked over to it and saw that it was a candle which had just lost its flame. It didn't take me too long afterwards to find a few more candles and matches so I could light them.

Once I did so the light from those candles spread into the four corners of the room and cascaded up the walls with their glow. I frowned as I realised that this did not change the atmosphere. Everything was of a morbid black, no colour. I only had a brief moment to properly look the last time I had stepped foot in here for after that moment was gone I was detained by the job of comforting Erik. I now took this opportunity to look around, seeing as Erik was nowhere to be found.

I started at one corner and made my way to the other, absent-mindedly running my fingertips over the coarse material of the cobbled walls. The hopelessly ripped satin curtains offered the only glimpse of softness. My eyes roamed the walls until they landed on something quite curious near the ceiling. I was too short to see clearly, and too short to reach, but I could make out that a row of paper lined the ceiling. Even stretching up on my tip toes did not help me. My curiosity was never one of my strong points when it came to controlling it and most of the time I allowed it to take over me. Right now was one of those times.

I went over to the desk to fetch a candle and I took it over to the wall, holding it up as far as my arm could reach. Now that the light was so close to it I was able to see that there was some form of writing scribbled all over each piece of paper. As I strained my eyes to see more clearly I saw that the writing was in Latin. Unfortunately I could not understand Latin that well and was therefore not able to figure out what it said.

I was about to turn and put the candle back on the desk when I felt a sudden chill come over me. Goosebumps appeared on my pale arms as I witnessed a wind appear out of no where and tease to extinguish the light. I stumbled back as the 'wind' continued to push the flames further into non existence. I shook my head in disbelief. I did not allow my head to be filled with such superstitious nonsense when I was a child but rumours of things such as this happening always arose and stayed with me. Out of nowhere I then laughed. I believed myself to be silly to even think that something supernatural was going on. I mean, I was living in a ghost's house after all.

My laugh seemed to be the conqueror of the so called wind for it died down almost immediately afterwards. My courage had been returned and so I went around the edge of the room, again trailing my fingers over the different textures. I stopped when my hand reached one particular satin drape. I had expected the feel of it to be soft but with the roughness of the cobbles behind it. But I could feel no roughness. Instead, the material was quite smooth. I peeled back the drape only to come face to face with a door. A door whose existence I had never known about.

I jiggled the handle and frowned when I found it could not be opened. I searched for a key but failed to find any. I made a mental note to ask Erik about it later. However, as soon as I thought this I jumped at the sudden sound of the door slamming shut. Slowly, while biting my lower lip in guilt, I turned on the spot to find Erik standing in front of the closed door staring at me.

"What do you think you are doing in here?" He snapped.

"I-I um … I was worried about you."

"Oh?" He asked as he began to stealthy step towards me, his cloak shielding him and almost making him blend in with the surroundings. "You were not trying to get into that room?" He pointed a bony finger to the door behind me.

"No."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? So it would not excite you to know that I have the key to that door-" he produced the object from deep inside his cloak, "-right here?"

I stared at it longingly, maybe for too long, before shaking my head politely. "No, Erik."

"Ah," he said in that tedious sarcastic tone, "so you _were _worried about me." I couldn't help but notice that the key was still in his hand.

"H-how could I not have been?" I looked up at him and took one step forward. "Erik, when you lock yourself in here for hours on end how do you think I would react?"

He gave me a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders. "Perhaps you rejoice in the fact that you do not have to share my company for a while."

"Why do you say such things?" I demanded. "I-I thought you were past thinking those types of thoughts."

"I am." He snapped again.

"Then why-"

"I don't know!" He sighed heavily. "I don't know. Maybe it is due to the fact that the woman I love is here, in my home willingly, and has agreed to my proposal of marriage and I just cannot accept that."

"Oh!" I gasped. "I did not mean to-"

"Or it may be down to the fact that I was taught by many that I would never receive any form of love or affection from anyone … not even when I am dead."

An uncontrollable need to take him in my arms claimed me as I stared up at this broken man. I was about to do just that when instead he took hold of my hand and placed the cold metal key inside it.

"Here." pushing my hand back towards my body. "See for yourself what I keep locked up in there."

I looked at him for a moment, registering longing and sadness swimming deep in those two black pools. "No, I do not want this."

"I insist." He seemed a lot calmer now and so I was more willing to use the key.

I gave him a small smile before turning and saying, "Thank you."

My mind raced through hundreds of possible things that could be lurking inside before I had even reached the door! My hand shook slightly as I placed the key in the handle slot. I had just began to turn it when a hideous long shriek echoed through the house. Startled, I stumbled back staring in all directions before looking questionably at Erik.

"What is that noise?" I asked, covering my ears.

"It's the siren calling."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we have a guest."

o0o

Prior to Erik's instructions, I was to stay exactly where I was until he returned. Though, that didn't turn out very well as once expected. I ended up waiting by the edge of the lake and portcullis to see who this mystery visitor was. For the briefest of moments I thought that it could be Raoul trying to rescue me but I was determined to not think of him in that way. I was no longer his, nor had I ever really been his.

From where I stood I could hear two pairs of muffled footsteps, though they were not coming from beyond the lake. Instead, they sounded like they were coming from behind one of the other carefully concealed exits, many of which I did not exactly know where they lay. Deciding to follow Erik's command and keep out of sight, I crept away and hid in the hallway. By hiding here no one would notice my presence and I could find out who this intruder was all at the same time. With all those years spent with Erik, I would certainly not be surprised if I had unconsciously picked up some of those ghost-like qualities which allowed him to be as silent and invisible as he wished himself to be.

I did not have to wait too long before the two sets of footsteps gradually became louder. I pressed my body against the wall as I readied myself for their arrival.

"God damn it!" I heard Erik cry out. They were nearing the entrance now. "Is the only reason that you keep coming down here is so you can ruin my defences that I deliberately set up to keep prying people like you out?"

"What a nice way to treat your old friend." The stranger said. I frowned when I heard that voice. It was deep but smooth, a man's voice, heavily accented and oddly familiar.

I heard Erik mutter, "An old friend who I have left alive too many times." To my surprise, the stranger laughed at this seemingly threatening comment. Who was this man who happily passed off Erik's threats as if they were mere jests?

"Enough with your dry humour, Erik."

"Yes." I could almost imagine him narrowing his eyes as he said this. "And now to the reason of your intrusion, Daroga."

_Daroga? _

And then I remembered. This man, who was known around the Palais Garnier simply as the Persian, was the one who had led Raoul down here after the interrupted performance of Don Juan Triumphant. Oh how I loathed watching those two men be tormented by intolerable amounts of heat in that dreaded chamber! I sighed deeply and stared at my feet. That was in the past and we had made a promise to each other that we would forget the past and move on. And so I pushed those frightening thoughts, which were now just an echo in the back of my head, out of my mind.

The Persian sighed and I could now tell that the two men were inside the house. "Yes, well you see-"

"Spit it out!" Erik snarled, his patience wearing out.

"I am here because of the welfare and protection of Mademoiselle Daaé." At the mention of my name I became rigid, unable to move.

"Protection against what, may I ask?" He jeered. "I can assure you she is quite safe here."

"Events in the past have me persuaded otherwise, my friend. I have no doubt though, as you have put it, that she is safe here. But, what I am concerned about is whether or not you can protect her from yourself."

"Meaning what exactly?"

"Erik," I heard him take one step, presumably towards Erik. "Have you hurt her, in any way?"

"Why do you ask this?"

"You have not answered the question. Erik," he took another step, "have you forced yourself on Mademoiselle Daaé?" A gasp escaped my lips as I heard his accusation.

"How _dare_ you accuse me of tainting her! Do you think me so low and degrading as to try to..." he trailed off into silence as if he could not bring himself to say those next few words. All the while I was listening to this conversation my heart was pounding fervently to be released from its cage, so much so that I had to place my hand on my chest in an attempt to try to calm it from beating so fast.

"I would never lay a hand on her in that manner, Daroga, and I begrudge you for thinking that much of me. I know I am a murderous monster in your eyes but-"

"You know I have never seen you in that way."

Erik sighed and replied sounding awfully weary and drained all of a sudden, "I appreciate that. But, that being said, I could never do such a thing to her, not as long as I live. If I did then I would never forgive myself."

"I am sorry for implying that you would. I was only concerned."

He laughed a short humourless laugh. "Don't be, Daroga. It is natural for one to think of something like that when someone like me is involved."

"You really should not be so hard on yourself, Erik." The Persian insisted.

"Why do you say such atrocities anyway?" He snarled. "Is it so that you can justify your actions in taking her away from me? Is that it, Daroga?" His voice shook with wreathing anger. "Do you dare to try taking her away from me? For if that is your true purpose in venturing down here then I would strongly advise you to tread very carefully. You are wallowing in deep infested waters after all."

My curiosity was growing fast and if I didn't satisfy it soon then it would eventually overflow. Deciding that I was too nosy for my own good, I went against my better judgement and edged closer. I heard pacing, long equal strides that could have only belonged to one person. From hearing no other footsteps I came to the conclusion that the Persian must have been standing still.

"You haven't changed, Erik, not one bit." I heard the Persian say. _Change?_ What on Earth was he speaking of? What was strange was that the last time these two were in the same room they hardly spoke to each other, but now they speak as if they were old friends! It would appear that Erik had some explaining to do. "I see you are still obsessed with beauty and still have that same need to possess the things that aren't yours to take. And then, when found guilty of your crime, you take delight in it."

The pacing had stopped. A melodious light-hearted, yet underlying sarcastic laugh bounced off the corners of the room. "You speak in riddles, Daroga! How am I supposed to decipher those words in which you speak if you have not given me any clues?"

"Erik." His voice, which a moment ago held authority and a slight trance of strange serenity, was now cold with suspicion shrouding it. "Do not play games with me; I did not come here to play games. Erik," I heard him take one more step, "you must tell me the truth. Are you holding Mademoiselle Daaé here against her will?"

Erik scoffed. "How offended you have made me! You saw the girl choose for herself that night. She chose me. _Me._"

"Yes, I understand that but-"

"No. No, you do not understand." His anger had now vanished and in its place now was a distant desperation which hung on every one of his words. "She _chose me_, Dargoa, and in that moment I knew I would do anything for her … even release her. But she stayed, out of pity or genuine concern I do not know, but she stayed. Never in my dreadful life has there been such peaceful bliss knowing she is in the next room. She is my life, my entire world and my muse. Oh, the sheer wonder of the music I can produce with her in mind is astonishing!" He laughed. "I know my actions may not lead you to believe such a thing but it is true. I know I cannot live without her for if I do then I will surely die. "

My eyes fluttered shut at hearing his words of utter devotion. Had I fully known the full extent of his love before now?

"Where is Mademoiselle Daaé? I would very much like to have a word with her."

He scoffed. "I see your sleuthing skills have left you."

"What are you talking about, Erik?"

"Have you not heard the scuffling of feet? She's been listening the entire time, Daroga." He chuckled and my eyes widened as he said this. I had not expected him to know that I was eavesdropping. "Isn't that right, Christine?"

I shyly walked out of my hiding spot and into view of the two acquaintances. I hung my head low, allowing my curls to cover the pinkness appearing on my cheeks as I walked. I could not have been more embarrassed!

"I'm sorry." I whispered, a smile threatening to show on my mouth as I raised my head enough so that I could just about see him.

He chuckled once more. It was so rare that I would hear an authentic laugh protrude from his throat, but whenever this miraculous noise sounded I revelled in the fact that I was the one who made that sound happen. This particular chuckle brought that threatened smile fully to my face and I raised my head back to its original place. Before I could look away he caught my eye and held my willing gaze with his. The blush that I had tried to keep under control unexpectedly resurfaced under the stare from his eyes. What had come over me all of a sudden?

Our eye contact broke the second the Persian had cleared his throat, probably due to the awkwardness of the situation. I immediately looked at the floor. I had completely forgotten that there was another person present!

"I do not think you two have formally met, have you?" Erik asked.

"No we have not." I said, glancing at Erik before switching to look at the Persian. I walked forward until I was standing right in front of him.

He was tall, not taller than Erik mind you, but taller than most. He had lovely olive skin and his brown eyes, though surrounded by heavy circles and wrinkles, were soft and kind. Those wrinkles, I guessed, were not caused by age but by stress for there were no other signs of ageing about him. Only a few wisps of dark grey hair amongst his black hair betrayed him, but I suspected that he just looked older than he really was.

I extended my hand with the proper courtesy and gave him a welcoming smile. He took my hand without hesitation and brought it to his lips. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle Daaé."

"It is nice to meet you too, monsieur..." I stopped short for I realised I had no idea what his second name was.

"Khan." He answered. "My name is Nadir Khan."

"Monsieur Khan." I said, letting my tongue become accustomed to the name.

"Oh, it makes me feel like an old man when you call me that!" He exclaimed as he smiled at me.

"You _are_ an old man." Erik interjected before I shot him a glare for being rude.

"Please just call me Nadir, mademoiselle." He continued as if Erik had said naught.

"Very well, Nadir, but I am afraid that you will have to call me Christine instead of mademoiselle."

"That is fine by me, Christine."

A deep growl sounded from Erik as he came to stand by me, quite possessively I might add. "I think that is enough pleasantries for now, don't you Daroga?"

Nadir, sensing Erik's dominant behaviour, placed his hands calmly behind his back and nodded. "Yes."

I then recalled part of their conversation earlier where Nadir made it clear of his intentions. "You wished to speak with me?"

"Ah, yes." He spoke, casting a side glance towards Erik who was staring down at him, eyes wide. "That is if you will permit me to do so Erik."

"Be quick about it." And with that he left us alone.

We stood in silence for a while before I spoke, "I'm sorry, I'm being terribly rude. Would you like some tea?"

"No, I am quite alright. Thank you for the offer." He smiled.

I cleared my throat. "So what is it you want to speak to me about?"

"Erik has informed me, as you would know though," I blushed with embarrassment, "that he has not done anything to harm you in any way during your time with him. Is this true?"

"Yes." I said, frowning. I did not understand why he doubted Erik's conduct. "He has acted like nothing short of a gentleman in that manner! He has been thoughtful and has looked after me and I after him, but..." I bit my lip.

"Yes?" He probed, trying to get this obviously wanted information out of me.

"Normally I can handle his … emotional outbursts but what I find unbearable is his temper. It is truly terrible. I fear it more than anything. And what is worse is that it appears so suddenly out of thin air. I try to appease him as often as I can so that I cannot tempt his anger from erupting."

"Well, he was and is still known for his temper." I gave him a quizzical look. What did he mean by that? "Oh and before I forget I must tell you that I have spoken to your fiancé."

"I am no longer engaged to Raoul. I wrote to him explaining this fact."

"So," he lowered his head so that he could remain at eye level with me. I think he was assessing me, taking note to see if I was lying or not, "you are truly considering staying with Erik?" He asked, unsure.

"There is nothing to consider." I assured him. "I have already chosen."

A way of joy passed over Nadir's face, only momentarily though before a grimace replaced the happy emotion. "You do not love him." It wasn't a question.

"No," I sighed, "I do not love him but I believe in time I will."

He took both of my hands in his and kissed each one. "Then may Allah smile down on you, my dear lady."

An hour or so later Nadir returned to the surface, leaving Erik's home in complete silence once more. _Erik's home_... it was as much Erik's as it was mine, yet I still could not consider this damp and dreary place home. I did not know why though.

"How do you know Nadir, Erik?" I asked him. There was no reply. "Erik?"

I turned around to find that he was not there. My eyes scanned the four corners of the room just to make sure. It was quite terrifying that he could disappear in the blink of an eye.

"I'm here, Christine." His voice appeared to be coming from his bed chambers and so I walked hesitantly to the entrance.

My eyes widened as I saw something on the far side of the room. The mystery door, it was open! Erik was standing as still as a statue staring at what was now in view. I stepped carefully, one foot at a time, trying not to startle Erik as if he were a scared deer ready to flee at any moment.

"You wanted to look, so look." He said monotonously.

I gave him one last wary glance before looking in the direction on the unlocked door. I knelt down beside the object resting inside the little room. I titled my head to the side to get a better look at it. It was a rather small rectangular wooden box with tiny intricate patterns engraved into the surface. I ran my fingers over the marked wood, amazed that the carving was so smooth and perfect. Running my fingers down the front of the box I found that there was a small key placed in the key hole. I looked at Erik for permission to open it but his mind seemed elsewhere. And so I placed my fingers around the small metal object and turned it.

My jaw fell as I peered at the contents. Inside lay lots of newspaper clippings, all of which were recent and all of which had a connection … to me. I slouched further into the floor as my hands inquisitively roamed around. _'La Daaé Triumphs'_, _'New Soprano Takes Stage'_, _'A star has risen'. _

"You kept all of these?" I asked in disbelief as my eyes fell upon more clippings from my success.

"Oh course." He whispered.

While searching for more articles my hands found more items; about a dozen shrivelled rose petals and several pieces of music most obviously written by Erik. I could not believe my eyes. I did not know exactly how to react to this, though I knew one thing. I felt extremely flattered that he would keep all theses things in memory of me.

"Oh." I sighed.

o0o

**Now that we've got the building blocks of their relationship up I think we can give our favourite couple a break and let them have some fun for the next few chapters, yes? After that the real drama can then begin! Don't forget to review though, I would love to hear your thoughts on what you hope will happen and what you think of the characters. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A big thanks to my beta, partypenguina3! I'm sorry for the wait but I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 9

o0o

Ever since Erik had granted me permission to look at what could only be described as a shrine in memory of me, things had changed between us. For the better or worse I was not sure. Our bizarre relationship was steadily moving forward, though we still had some bitter quarrels which always ended rather abruptly without a clear winner. Yes, our relationship was moving forward but moving forward to what I did not know! I was still completely unsure of what I felt for this man and if there were any sure feelings for him they were most certainly hidden so deep down inside that even I was oblivious to them.

He had yet to explain to me where and how he had come to know Nadir Khan but, determined as ever, I strived to find out the truth … no matter how long it took. Their friendship was odd for I had never seen two friends act that way around each other. Perhaps I would have hit a nerve if I were to ask about it but I sensed there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Nadir had informed me before he left that he intended to make a few more trips down here to check on us and I assured him this was fine. Erik on the other hand could not be more displeased over Nadir's newly expected visits.

"I will not have you trespassing in my home so freely to ... check up on me, as you put it, like I am some scrawny infant who needs supervision!"

"I will when Christine's safety is on the line." Nadir protested. "It is merely a precaution."

Erik's unintelligible mutterings, and possibly cursing as well, promptly brought that conversation to a close. And I could not understand how this man could tolerate Erik's confusing temperaments and rantings and pass them off as nothing. It was truly perplexing. I knew I needed some peace brought to my mind on this subject but I dared not ask Erik, not yet, and not while we had only started to trust one another again.

Placing my trust in someone like Erik was quite unnerving considering our past and everything that had transpired down here. Yet lately I had been feeling more and more obliged to do nothing but place my trust in him. Perhaps this was merely due to the fact that we lived under the same roof and in order to survive we had to learn to converse like civilised people instead of only venturing out of our safe rooms when we absolutely need to. Oh, but by saying that I make it sound as if we were sworn enemies fighting for the last scrap of free land! Ah, my newly found tendency to over exaggerate was another one of those annoying habits that I had picked up off of Erik. I think he was becoming a bad influence on me.

I sighed contently and settled further into the cushions on the settee, wishing for the warm rays of the sun to touch my skin and complete this scene. I stretched my entire arm out before resting it on the back of the sofa.

Erik may have been an awful influence when it comes to habits but what he was not a bad influence in was music. Oh, his glorious music! I suspected, by the way he always spoke about it being one with him, that he had studied for many long years and through those years had become a master that could even question the talents of Handel or Chopin. What was even more amazing was that he had devoted more than ten years of his life to teaching me the ways of music and how to reach my full potential with my voice. All those years he spent training my voice … I knew he did not regret a day of it … and I knew neither did I.

Per usual, as I quite happily lounged around, Erik was busy creating melodies that seemed to change to another as swiftly and easy as breathing. I did not usually sit in the same room as him while he diverged himself in his work, but seeing as things had started to develop between us I was compelled to act boldly.

A smile graced my lips as I recognised the piece that Erik had slyly shifted into playing. Every time I listened to Mozart's Piano Sonata no. 16 it set me in such a light and happy mood. From the very second I heard this I had fallen in love with it. The scaling arpeggios always brought fantastic imagery to my mind. Lately, I had come to realise that Erik had begun to play this piece regularly. Was this in a hope to please me? I smiled even more at the thought.

Lost in the beauty of the music and at how flawlessly Erik was able to play, I absent-mindedly raised my arm and let my fingers try to tap the many arpeggios out in the air. I adored it when he would play for me and only me. Whenever he would do this for me it warmed my heart and made me feel somewhat special and privileged. I would then also get a sense of what he must have felt like when I sang solely for him. For once I was not confused about these feelings for this was our way of connecting. Through music.

It was through music that I felt most at peace. The experience of singing in front of an audience and to hear that erupting applause at the end was, in a word, exhilarating. As a performer you thrive on positive criticism and comments that were provided by the esteemed critics but none of that ever mattered to me. Back then the only opinion I sought out was _his _and I thrived on _his _positive comments alone. But since then the roles of the student and teacher had wilted and all that was left was one small bud of hope, and let me tell you that that bud was as unsure and frightened to bloom as anything.

I let my arm drop to my side and my head tilt so that Erik was in view. While witnessing him play I had a sudden urge to be closer, a want to see his fingers fly across the two shades of ivory. Getting to my feet I walked over and stood next to the piano.

My eyes drank in the sight for a minute or so before something that I had not thought about in years came to mind. "Did you know that when I was young, before I came to France that is, I had expressed an interest in learning to play? We had a small piano in our home in Sweden." I welcomed the warm smile on my face as I was hit with waves of memories. "I remember Father practising in the afternoons, oh course playing the violin was his speciality, but I loved listening all the same. I was fascinated by the way some pianists, like yourself, were able to play the way they did."

"Hmm." Erik replied, short and to the point which meant he neither cared nor wished to hear what I had to say at this particular time. Yet I still persisted and quite suddenly a trivial question appeared inside my head.

"Erik, where did _you_ learn to play?" I asked, craving an actual answer and not just a non verbal sound. "I do not recall you ever telling me."

"That is because I did not learn anywhere." He said, his eyes never leaving the keys. "It is something that I picked up from a very young age."

I stood there, jaw dropped and eyes wide with amazement and slight scepticism. "You mean you are completely self taught?" He nodded. "That is incredible."

"Do I detect doubt in your tone, my dear?" I could hear those words were laced with humour.

"Oh course, I mean, I just cannot believe it." I raised one eyebrow in thought. "You surely cannot have taught yourself _all_ of your talents, no?"

He breathed in heavily and took his hands off the keys. "No. No, I did not."

"So," I started slowly, my curiosity growing as well as his obvious irritation. "you taught yourself how to play. But what about your other skills? Where did you learn all those frightening tricks that you showed off when you were trying to scare some of the company members upstairs? The sorcery, your skills in architecture, where did you learn it all?"

His back stiffened. "Christine, I'd rather not-"

I did not heed the faint trace of warning in his words for I continued my ramblings as before, "Did you study for many years? Or-"

"I do not want or feel the need to discuss this with you!" He snapped, allowing that built up anger to be released so it could wrap round my body like a tight cocoon.

I flinched at his words and decided to cease my questioning … for now. "Forgive me, I did not mean to anger you and I did not mean to pry. I was-"

"Simply curious." He finished for me and I gave a small nod. Erik sighed and placed his right hand back onto the piano. He slowly started to run his hand up and down the keys, his fingertips barely touching them as he did this motion. "Christine, would you sing for me?" He said, his voice low and sad.

"Oh course, what would you have me sing?" I asked, wanting to grant him his request.

That is how we spent the next few hours, with me singing and Erik accompanying me on the piano and occasionally on the violin. Hearing my voice soar with his playing in one breathtaking harmony always brought a piece of serenity into my soul.

When I had finished one aria Erik would start another and I was too happy to object. I was so consumed by the emotion of singing _Il ne revient pas _from Faust that I hardly noticed Erik rise from his seat at the piano and come towards me. Oh course I was mindful that the music had stopped and I was now singing a capella but whenever I was immersed in lyrics of tragic longing the world around me seemed to blur.

My voice ceased when Erik was mere inches away from me, his sinister eyes examining every part of my face and neck. I stood there silently and timid, uncertain on how to proceed. As his eyes bore into mine I became very aware that Erik had slowly raised his hands to they were level with my neck. For a fleeting second I thought he truly intended on strangling me and my heartbeat increased wildly at the dreaded theory. All my worry, thankfully, vanished quickly as I saw that his eyes held no anger or blood lust in them.

He scanned my face and frowned when he saw my discomfort woven through the layers of my skin. "Sing." He said, his voice rich with the gentle command.

I complied and started to sing Marguerite's aria once more, my gaze never leaving Erik's for one second. I watched him purposefully as I sang, eyeing his fingers for I was not sure how he was going to proceed. Relaxing slightly, I then sang the beautiful aria with ease. I could not help but tense up when I felt something cold against my neck. Glancing down without my voice faltering, I saw Erik's fingertips lightly brush against my throat as if they were coaxing the sound out from it with their touch. From the look on the exposed part of his pale face I could tell that he wanted -no, needed- to possess my voice, to control it. I had often wondered what it was about my voice that made him submissive and I shamefully admit that I had spent many an afternoon pondering this question. My voice, though I had absolutely no idea why, almost acted as an anaesthetic for Erik. I have a few vivid memories of Erik calmly closing his eyes as I sang during one of our regular lessons. Perhaps what he felt like when I sang was the same as what I felt when he played. We each poured our very souls into our work to make them truly magnificent, yet if one places too much of their soul into something it could possibly lead to tragedy. _Don Juan Triumphant _was a perfect example of that.

Erik wrote his inner most feelings and … desires into that beautiful but disturbing opera. How long had he been working on his masterpiece? My initial reaction to the plot had produced a hideous blush to my cheeks and it only increased as I was directed to act quite scandalously opposite our baritone lead. The whole ordeal was really rather embarrassing for me. However, to be quite frank, all that embarrassment dissolved as soon as I realised that it was Erik on stage with me.

The lyrics and the power in my voice had since trailed off into oblivion as Erik's fingers travelled up my neck to rest, ever so gently, on my jawline. I gasped at his sudden boldness and I quickly clasped my hands behind my back in an attempt to shield my trembling nerves from him. Unfortunately, my nerves did not calm but only increased as I felt his thumbs ghost over my bottom lip. A memory flashed across the front of my mind as quick as lightning while he did this. This situation reminded me of the predicament I found myself in with him just before he bestowed me my wedding gown.

My palms became ever so slightly sweaty due to our closeness which only made me clasp my hands tighter. Recently I had been contemplating our relationship and what I felt for Erik, though whenever I did think about it I could never actually decide _what _I felt for this man. There were so many valid reasons why I should not feel anything for him. He was a liar, a deceiver, a murderer … and yet, within those hands tainted with blood he held something that no other man could. The key to my very soul.

My mind came to an abrupt halt as I felt his hot breath upon my mouth. Due to this, my lips parted slightly and I took a small step forward. My eyes fell upon his lips briefly before I snapped them away to look at something else. They roamed the unnatural colouring and the protruding bones on his face and I frowned at his stark white mask on the opposite side. My new found strength was put to the test as I slowly brought my hand up to the exposed side of his face, my eyes never leaving his for a moment. As I let my fingers gently stroke his cheek, I saw him pull back with a startled expression strung through his features. I fashioned a loving smile towards his uncertainty and continued to feel the strange texture of his cheek. The way he reacted to my touch was bizarre; it was almost as if he was afraid that I would hurt him in some way or other.

If he did not seem uncomfortable before he definitely did now for I had reached up with my other hand with the intention of removing his mask. I did not know where this impulse had come from nor did I have any reason to not obey it. My fingertips had just brushed the edge of the porcelain when his hand suddenly shot out and grabbed ahold of my wrist. Both of my small, trembling hands froze in place as Erik's submissive nature vanished.

He arched an eyebrow and tilted his head to inspect my then wandering hand. "What do you think you are doing, my dear?" His words, harmless enough, were dripping with cold bitterness.

I swallowed back a frightful stutter forming on the tip of my tongue as I tried to go unaffected by the sting in his stare. I answered in a small, feeble voice which made my response seem awfully innocent. "I-I only wanted to-"

"Wanted to what?" He asked in a patronising manner.

I didn't dare to look away as I spoke, in fear of seeming small and meek. "I only wanted to remove your mask."

"Oh, did you now?" My eyes flickered between my secured wrist in his hand and his face. "Well we can't have that now, can we?" He asked.

No matter how determined I was to try to avoid the temptation, his mask was still drawing me near. "Please." I whispered. "Let me see your face."

"No!" He snapped and bowed his head, shielding his pain filled eyes from me at the same time. "Do not ask this of me. Not this."

My heart went out to this man at that very moment. Pity and despair flowed through me when he spoke. Could he really still feel that insecure around me? To my knowledge, I was the only one who had, and by his reckoning the only one who ever would, been able to look upon his dreadful face without detestation or loathing. I needed to make him feel as though he could place enough trust in me as to allow me to see his face without any boundaries. Up to this point in his life, I wondered, had he known the gentleness or kindness that is exchanged between friends freely? His erratic and somewhat theatrical actions suggested otherwise.

I bravely placed my forefinger under his bony chin and lifted his head carefully until his eyes were level with mine once more. I gave him my best attempt at a smile, although it came out rather half-heartedly. "You do not need to hide any more."

"You don't know what I have been put through." He whispered, referring to his face. His eyes bore into mine and it was then and there that a portion of his past was revealed to me. Not through words but instead through the power and grief stricken look in his eyes. In that moment I was given a brief taster of the horror that had been inflicted on him many years before.

I shuddered inwardly, not wanting Erik to mistake my tremors for disgust. "Then," I said slowly while I slipped my forefinger under his mask and rested the pad of my thumb on the outer side, "let me help you see that you don't have to go through any of that ever again."

I hesitated shortly before I began to gently pry the mask from his face, my other hand resting reassuringly on his shoulder. When the porcelain barrier was safely within my hand I heard a small, barely audible cry escape his lips. When I looked up I saw that his eyes were closed shut, telling me that he would not reopen his eyes under any circumstances. Sighing, my eyes then moved over to the deformed section of his face.

It truly was a ghastly sight. His skin, though very thin and really rather transparent, was an even more off colour than the opposite side of his face. It was stretched over high protruding bones and hung slightly baggy just below at his sunken cheek. The damaged skin also ran over to the adequate side of his face a little bit. The half of his nose that was covered by the mask barely resembled a nose at all. And his eyes -Lord!- they were hollowed out like a corpse's, bereft of colour and soft texture. What repulsions and crimes had these eyes witnessed? As grim a sight as this was, I was amazingly able to look past these atrocities and see him for what he was. A man. A broken and pitiful one, but a man nonetheless.

I smiled up at him for his face no longer scared me nor did it repel me as it once did. I gave his shoulder a soft squeeze before I leaned inwards and placed a lingering kiss upon his marred cheek. I was just as surprised by this gesture as he was but my smile remained constant as he opened his eyes and stared at me in wonder and confusion. No words were spoken, but instead a sense of mutual respect and overdue acceptance flowed between us.

The soprano and the teacher. The lark and the nightingale. Day and night. Two lost souls entangled and written on the stave of life, awaiting the journey to freedom. It was strange to think how much our lives had changed since that fatal meeting ten years ago.

o0o

The rest of the evening passed fairly quickly.

After I had unmasked Erik, I had returned the white porcelain to him and swiftly escaped to my bed chamber. I just couldn't bear the sight of those sad eyes any longer! A part of me, though I was not sure how deep it was, longed for him to stop me from leaving then. I wished for him to say something, anything, but he never did. And so I reluctantly walked to my room and closed the door slowly behind me.

There was no sense in dwelling in that moment so I briskly changed into my nightclothes and readied myself for my slumber. My hand had just reached out towards the silk sheets of my bed to pull them back when I paused my actions. Straining my ears, I tried to listen for any signs of music drifting through the towering walls. I frowned when I was met with silence, a prolonging silence that simply drove me mad sometimes. Lately, when I retired to my room for the night, I had begun to hear a series of soft notes echoing from Erik's Stradivarius. This serene lullaby always helped to ease me into my dreams, letting me forget my cares and worries for a few hours. A feeling of contentment had always fluttered through me as I relaxed. This was because of the memories that the lullaby stirred from deep within me, the memories of my father. However, no lullaby was heard tonight and I began to wonder what Erik was doing.

Picking up the hem of my trailing nightgown, so as not to clumsily trip over the material, I crept over to my bolted door and bent down until my eye was level with the keyhole. I was unwilling to open the door in fear of being discovered out of bed – how silly it seemed! Nevertheless, I looked through the small hole to see if I could see anything that would lead to Erik's whereabouts. My view was extremely restricted and it made me wonder why on Earth I had thought that I would be able to see anything clearly in the first place.

Plucking out some of my bottled up bravery, my fingers inched up towards the bolt on the door. Once that was done I carefully, not wanting to be noticed, opened the door. Wincing every time a small sound was produced from the old worn out wood, I continued to push on the door until I could just about see through the opened crack. Quickly deciding that this crack was too small, I squeezed through it until my body was on the other side. It was only after this that I realised there was yet another obstacle in my way. I frowned when I saw that the two black curtains which shielded my door from sight were in my way, and so I went about delicately removing them from my view. However, my hand on one curtain froze as I stole a glimpse of a moving shadow not too far from where I was standing. My breath caught as the shadow moved into the light of a single low burning candle.

My body retreated into the protecting arms of the black material around me as I continued to watch quietly, fascinated. Erik was pacing back and forth wildly, wringing his clasped hands behind him. By the assertiveness, and almost angry, stride in his step I was convinced that he was on his way to ruining that lovely Persian rug strewed across the entire floor. His pacing almost put an abrupt end to the fading candle on top of the piano lid but it seemed that he did not care. My eyes wandered from Erik to the piano and saw about a dozen pieces of music sprawled out. I saw that every so often he would run his fingers frustratingly through his thin hair and glance towards his music before leaning over the sheets to write down his sudden spark of inspiration.

I observed him for a few minutes, listening to his surprisingly soft sounding steps and bizarre mutterings, before his pacing stopped. An inaudible gasp escaped my lips as he turned on the spot and stared straight at me. Even in the crescendo of darkness I could still see his black eyes watching my every move.

"What are you doing up?" He asked with that terrible sneer present. When I did not reply he began to slowly walk towards me, each carefully placed foot taunting me. I let out another gasp as my back sharply collided with the door frame.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to disturb you." I replied, my fingers unconsciously edging further round the opened door, ready for a quick retreat if needed.

He ignored my apology and continued to walk towards me, climbing the few steps in front of my room and closing the distance between us greatly. The light from my room fell on him making his features more prominent. My eyes widened when I recognised the look in his eyes, it was desire. My mind was screaming for me to get away before anything happened. For once I had no logical arguments against this suggestion and I was almost too eager when I began to slip back inside my room.

"I am sorry for disturbing you, Erik. Goodni-" I wasn't able to complete my sentence for his fingers jolted forward and took hold of my arm.

He pulled me back steadily towards him until we were almost touching, my breath catching at the proximity of our closeness. I reddened at the fact that I was only wearing my nightgown and I instinctively turned my body away from him. However, this was deemed a much harder task than first thought because of the firm, strong hold on me. What made matters even more embarrassing, and my cheeks turn a deeper red, was when Erik began to trace the air around my hair and face. I witnessed him smirk as if he was taking some form of proud pleasure in my reaction.

I couldn't blink nor breathe nor move. I was trapped within his hold.

My eyes followed his movements intently as he stroked my jawline and cheek with the backs of his fingers. Without thinking I leaned into his caress, my eyes fluttering shut as his knuckles brushed against the side of my mouth.

"Do not defy me any longer, Christine." He whispered.

"Erik," I began.

"No." He whispered again, his hand on my arm moving around to rest on the small of my back. "Do not defy me." He repeated, his voice enveloping my senses and began to control them at his will.

"Erik," I said just as his lips slowly came down to trace over mine, tempting me with promises fresh on his breath. I frowned shortly when I felt the edge of his mask bump against my skin as well.

"Yes?" He asked.

"I-I..." My eyelids flew open and the words of denial that were on the tip of my tongue disappeared as I saw the look in his eyes.

His hand had now stopped moving and had rested softly against my cheek. "Yes?" He asked again, the smirk returning to his face.

Suddenly, as if I was plunged into cold water, I was pulled out of my dreamlike state and returned to reality. I came to my senses and immediately looked down at my bare feet. "Erik," I shifted uncomfortably in his hands, "please let go of me." I said timidly.

Both of his hands seemed to tighten around me before he stiffly let them hang loose at his side. He took a possessive step closer and I shrank back in fear of his future actions. He brought his head down until it was level with my ear. "You will succumb to me, Christine. It is only a matter of time..."

When I looked up he had vanished and the candle was now extinguished. With one last sweep of the area for any signs of Erik and a frown upon my brow I slipped back into my room. As soon as I had bolted the door behind me I released the breath I did not know I was holding. I clutched at the cross hanging beneath my nightgown and brought it up and over my neck by the chain.

I walked over to my bed and knelt down next to it. I rested my elbows on the sheets and clasped my hands together, the cross and chain swinging gently from between them. I bowed my head and shut my eyes, all the while trying to control my breathing.

"Father," I began, "you told me many years ago that you would send an angel to me, to protect me, to guide me." I raised my head to look to the heavens. "But instead you send me Erik, a man, a murderer. Why did you send him to me, and I to him, if I cannot return his love? I do not want to become a burden in his already heavy heart." I sighed. "There must have been a reason why God placed us together. Is it so I can love him? If so then I have to tell you that it is not as simple as that, father. If he truly is my angel..." My words faded away when I heard the faint notes of my lullaby being played through the walls. I looked around and gave a small sad smile. "If he truly is my angel then why do I resist him so?"

o0o


End file.
